


Falling Back to You

by odylaning



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odylaning/pseuds/odylaning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Zac (OC) move in with Derek in his new house. An attack on the night of a full moon leaves Zac (who doesn't know about werewolves yet) and the rest of the pack, confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zac and Stiles move in to Derek's new house. Sarah, Laura Hale's best friend shows up to Beacon Hills and Derek and Stiles have a chat with her. Meanwhile, Zac starts to get suspicious.

Derek unlocks the door. He pushes it open and steps to the side, allowing Stiles and Zac to enter first.

“Woah,” gapes Stiles. “Nice place!” Derek nods and steps in.

Zac puts his bag down, and takes a look around. It’s a pretty big house. A huge glass chandelier hangs from the ceiling. It illuminates the mahogany hardwood covering the floor of the long hallway. A small living room occupies the left side of the house, and another hallway across it leads to the garage. Further down, Zac catches a glimpse of stainless steel appliances and the glow of a TV, presumably from the family room.

“Looks like a home to me,” says Zac.

“Just don’t get too comfortable,” warns Derek. “One slip-up and you’re out.”

Well then.

He picks up both of their suitcases in each hand and heads upstairs with Stiles and Zac following. The carpeted stairs are a creamy colour, with another painting hanging on the winding staircase, this one of a triskele. Stiles states his opinion on everything and Derek completely ignores him. He heads into a dark red room, where he drops Stiles’s suitcase onto a big queen bed. There are three large windows, and sunlight floods the entire room. A door leads off into an ensuite, a bathroom with a Jacuzzi. A black desk, dresser and night table, plus the bed, are the only furniture. It’s a nice room.

“This is my room?” asks Stiles.

“No, I just put your bag here because my arm was getting a little tired,” says Derek. Stiles rolls his eyes.

“It was a rhetorical question,” he replies. “You don’t have to be so sassy.” He crosses his arms.

“My house,” says Derek, and walks out, still carrying the other suitcase.

“I love the colour red!” shouts Stiles from the other room. Derek shakes his head. He heads down the hallway, which, like the staircase, winds. The walls up here are white and bare. There is a small nook in the corner, where the hallway ends. A bookshelf occupies one wall, and a beanbag chair sits across from it.

“You read?” asks Zac, shocked. Derek turns around.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing just…you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who reads.” He shrugs.

“I might surprise you,” he answers, pushing open a door.

This room is a shady green colour, the furniture cherry-brown. A king bed sits in the middle, complete with a white duvet and a million pillows. One wall is almost entirely covered in windows. There is also an ensuite, with a shower stall and a bathtub.

“When did you get so rich?”

“You like it or not?” he replies.

“I would be crazy not to, I mean, look at the room! It’s like, twice the size of my old one, and I thought that room was pretty big,” Zac takes his bag out of Derek’s hand and drags it to the foot of the bed.

“All that’s missing is…a flat screen TV and a nice leathery Lazy-Boy.” He smiles sheepishly at him. Derek keeps a straight face.

“Not going to happen. If I put a TV in your rooms, the only thing you and Stiles are going to do is spend hours alone in solitary confinement, and that is not what this house is for,” he answers. Then he walks out, closing the door behind him.

Solitary confinement? What is this guy, a therapist? Zac shake his head and opens the suitcase, beginning to unpack. Then a sudden thought occurs to him. Derek’s family all burned to death ten years ago, then his sister was murdered. He’s been spending about half of his life alone, and now that he’s finally got a new house and a new sort of…family, he wants to spend time with them. Aww. What an emotional guy. So deep on the inside, yet so reluctant to show his feelings.

“Oh well, I have a laptop anyway,” he says to himself.

*

Stiles runs to catch up with Zac as they head down the stairs to dinner.

“How’s your new room?” he asks.

“Great. Better than yours.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah? How so?”

“Not only have I got a Jaccuzi, but I also have a shower stall and a bathtub. There’s also a fireplace. Oh, and I have a flatscreen TV.” Zac grins widely. Stiles stops halfway down the stairs with his mouth open. Then he practically flies down the remaining steps and runs to the kitchen.

“DEREK!” He skids to a stop, inches away from Derek’s face, who is holding a hot pan of lasagne fresh out of the oven.

“Stiles! Watch out!” He frowns and pushes him away.

“Oh my God, sorry!”

Zac stands behind Stiles and leans on the marble counter, smirking.

“What is it?” asks Derek, frustrated. He puts the lasagne pan on the counter.

“Why does Zac have a flat screen TV in his room and I don’t? And a fireplace too? C’mon man, you’ve known me longer!” Stiles puts both of his hands on Derek’s shoulders and looks him in the eye. “Way longer,” he adds.

“He doesn’t have a TV in his room Stiles, don’t be an idiot,” Derek shoots a glare in Zac’s direction and he shrugs, still smirking. Derek pushes his arms away. Stiles’ mouth drops open and he takes a few slow steps towards Zac.

“You,” he says, pointing his finger, “are a liar.” He purses his lips, as if that was the most brilliant thing he has ever said.

“And you are gullible,” he retorts.

“Quit flirting and set the table,” says Derek, annoyed.

Stiles rolls his eyes before asking, “Are we gunna eat in the dining room?” He stares longingly at the 65” LED screen in the family room connected to the kitchen. A set of brown leather couches are fitted against the wall. A Lazy-Boy sits on the corner of the family room, its back to the kitchen.

“Yes,” he answers.

“But why?”

“My house,” says Derek, for the second time.

“Okay, we get that it’s your house but—” Zac stops mid sentence because Stiles just kissed Derek on the cheek. He grins.

“Please?” He asks, giving him puppy eyes and pulling his shoulders up.

Derek looks like he is going to murder someone. Specifically, Stiles.

“Never,” says Derek, in a low voice, “Do that again. Ever.”

“Okay okay, sorry,” he says, shrugging innocently.

“Just for today,” says Derek.

“What?”

“I said just for today, we can eat in front of the TV.”

“Yes!” Zac shouts, and Stiles pumps his fist in the air with his eyes closed and a tight smile on his face.

“Now get the plates and cutlery.” Derek walks to the family room with the lasagne pan and plops down on the couch.

“Victory,” Stiles whispers.

“It’s a dinner, not a lacrosse game.” Zac grabs three plates from the cupboards.

“Yeah, well if you ever get Derek to do something you want, then you can have an opinion on how it feels, okay?” Stiles carries the cutlery in both hands.

“Well, I certainly won’t be snogging him for it,” he remarks. Stiles shoots him a dirty look.

“Snogging? What are you, British?” He heads to the living room, and Zac follows him. He sits beside Derek and hand him a fork and a knife.

“Shut up, both of you, and eat,” snaps Derek, and plops a big messy heap of lasagne on their plates.

“Will do,” says Stiles, as he reaches for the remote.

*

Zac lays on his new bed, staring up at the textured ceiling. He’s so full he feels like his stomach will explode if he takes a deep breath. He has no regrets though, Derek makes some delicious lasagne. He didn’t even know Derek could cook. Which reminds him, he never answered the question as to where he got this house from. He’s been living in it for five months now, about the same time Zac and Derek have known each other. He moved in right as they were becoming friends, and Derek never even told him how he got the money. Zac lets out a short breath. That guy is mysterious.

He rolls off his bed and head down the hall towards Derek’s room. The door is slightly ajar, and he can hear whispers. Zac pauses and leans forward.

“Aren’t you going to tell him?”

“There’s a time for everything,” says Derek.

“Yeah well, you’ve known the guy for like, almost half a year, I think he should know,” begs Stiles.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because, Derek, what’s going to happen when it’s a full moon, huh? What’s going to happen when Erica and Boyd and Scott and Jackson and the Argents show up, and he’s all caught up in the middle of it? How are you going to explain that?”

“I get it,” smirks Derek. “You don’t want him to feel the way you did, Stiles. Left out. He’ll be fine. Zac can take care of himself. Plus, it’s been five months and he still doesn’t have a single clue as to what’s going on.”

“Well, that’s because he’s been living with his girlfriend, and we’ve managed to avoid any hangouts during the full moon.” He sounds desperate.

“Ex-girlfriend,” mutters Derek.

Stiles takes a deep breath and says, “Just tell him, okay?”

“Tell me what?” asks Zac. Stiles turns around, startled.

“Tell you that…umm…” He looks at Derek, who’s glaring at him. Derek blinks and his frown is replaced with a smile.

“Tell you that Stiles and I are dating,” he says.

Zac’s mouth drops open.

“What?” is all he can manage.

Stiles looks confused and strangely happy, and when Derek elbows him in the ribs, he stands up straight and clears his throat.

“Yeah, we were going to tell you sooner, but we didn’t know how,” He shrugs. Derek grins.

“How…what?! How long has this been going on?” Zac is bewildered. He’s having a hard time grasping this information, but Derek’s smile is convincing.

“About hmm…” He looks at Stiles, “Maybe three months?”

“Mhm I think so, three months sounds about right to me,” says Stiles. He puts his arm around Derek and Derek smiles at Stiles.

Zac feels sick.

“Since when were you guys gay?”

“Since I laid eyes on the most attractive male on this planet,” says Stiles.

“And, you weren’t planning on telling me because…?”

Derek walks over to Zac and shuts his jaw.

“Because we knew this is exactly how you’d react. Get over it, quickly.”

“Umm…okay, umm, well,” he takes a deep breath, “I just came to tell you that my ex-girlfriend is bringing my daughter over tomorrow. She’s going to be sleeping in my room, and I’ll take care of everything she needs.”

“How old did you say she was?” Asks Stiles, coming up from behind Derek and putting his arms around his waist.

Zac tries to hold in his dinner. Not that he has anything against gays but, Derek? He’s about as straight as a guy gets. Stiles, he understands, it was actually kind of predicting, but Derek? Now that he thinks about it though, Zac has never seen him with any girl. He swallows hard.

“Four years old,” he croaks.

Derek nods. “Okay, well we’re heading out, we should be back soon.” He flashes another smile and walks out the door, and Stiles follows him.

Zac runs to the bathroom.

*

“You are so dead,” says Derek with clenched teeth, as he shuts the front door behind him.

“Me?! What did I do?” Stiles zips up his jacket.

“You know exactly what you did, Stiles. Now shut up before I kill you,” he replies. Derek unlocks his car and gets in the driver’s seat.

“It’s always my fault, isn’t it?” mutters Stiles. He gets in the passenger seat.

Stiles doesn’t know where they’re going, and he doesn’t ask, but the first stop they make is the gas station. The sun is starting to go down, and Stiles wishes he brought his sunglasses. Derek had been blasting really loud thumping music and it gave him a headache. The last thing he needs is the blinding light of the setting sun in his eyes. He lays his head back and takes out his phone. He scrolls through his music, until he finds the song he’s looking for. Glancing back to make sure Derek is still pumping gas, he switches Derek’s phone with his and hooks it up to the sound system. Since they’re the exact same colour, he won’t notice. Stiles smiles to himself and puts Derek’s phone in his pocket.

Derek comes in a second later, and starts up his car. The music starts playing.

Derek slams on the break, and a car behind him honks loudly.

“What the hell is this?” He shouts.

Stiles says, “All Time Low?”

“I know it’s All Time Low you idiot, I mean how the hell did it get on my phone?” He still hasn’t moved his car, so the one behind him goes around and the driver flashes him the finger.

“It’s not your phone, it’s mine.” Stiles wishes Derek would lighten up. Derek glares at him.

“C’mon Derek, I know it’s your car and whatever but the music you were blasting before gave me a headache,” he whines.  
“Turn it off.”

“Oh my God, why?”

“Stiles, turn it off. Or I’m going to rip your head off—”

“—With your teeth? Yeah, that one worked before.”

Derek glares at him. Stiles glares back. Tension fills the air, until Derek pulls his gaze away and drives out of the gas station without turning off the music.

Stiles smiles to himself out the window.

 

A couple minutes later, Derek pulls into the parking lot of the Beacon Hills mall. He unplugs Stiles’s phone from the speakers and tosses it onto his lap. Stiles hands him his phone and they get out of the car. He’s mad, it’s pretty obvious, but Stiles knows it won’t last long.

“Why are we at the mall? It doesn’t look like you need new clothes to me,” he jokes. Derek wears a dark-washed pair of Levi’s, a white Ralph Lauren polo shirt and his trademark leather jacket on.

Derek stares straight ahead through his sunglasses and keeps walking. Stiles practically has to jog to keep up.

“Derek, I’m—”

“Shut up,” he interrupts. “I’m already beginning to regret allowing you to live with me.” He opens the door to the mall and doesn’t even hold it for Stiles.

Ouch. That hurt. Stiles really had no other choice. In the past few months since his dad lost his job, things have been getting rocky at home. What was once a stable father-son relationship between Stiles and his dad had disappeared. The only solution was that Stiles moves out, so his dad would only have to be responsible for himself. He would have gone to Scott’s, but his mom hasn’t really been fond of him lately, considering the amount of trouble he always seemed to drag Scott into. Or he could’ve gone to Zac’s, but at the time Zac had a girlfriend and a four year old daughter and the last thing he wanted was to play the homeless guy that no one wants around. Wait, he thinks. I am the homeless guy that no one wants around. He swallows the lump in his throat and follows Derek in.

Stiles stays a couple of feet behind Derek without saying anything, surprisingly. Derek keeps looking from left to right, walking quickly. Clearly he is either looking for someone, or something. They head down the corner of Aerie and Lasenza Girl, and Derek doesn’t even glance at the window advertisements. He steps onto the escalator, heading up towards the café section.

Once they reach the top, Derek finds the nearest empty bench and sits down. Right across from them is a tea shop, and a brunette girl and a blonde guy are the only people working there. Stiles stands in front of Derek, his hands in his pockets.

“You came to the mall to sit on a bench in the café court?” he asks, amazed. Derek looks up at him, those light green eyes boring right down into his soul.

“Stiles, I have my reasons for doing what I do, okay?”

Stiles sighs. “Fine,” he says. “But I’m going to go get a frap from Starbucks. Want anything?” Derek shakes his head.

It’s been two hours of sitting on the bench. Stiles’s butt has gotten very numb, but he never complained, in fear of Derek going all werewolf on him in public. He’s been playing Angry Birds for about half an hour when Derek says “now”, almost inaudibly, and gets up. Stiles locks his phone and slips it into his pocket. He follows him, but not before stretching out every aching muscle in his body. He jogs to catch up, and Derek puts his hand on his chest to slow him down.

“Don’t attract attention,” he whispers.

“What exactly are we doing?”

“Just do as I say, okay?”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, but he lightens his footsteps.

The mall is nearly empty, and the store owners are starting to close down their shops. It takes him a while, but Stiles finally figures out that they are following the brunette girl that works at the tea shop in the café court. Derek keeps a distance of fifteen feet away from her, but as they near the parking lot, he starts to close that distance. The girl walks over to a silver Mazda and sets her phone on the roof of her car as she fumbles in her purse for her keys. Derek decides that this is a good time to make his presence known and he steps in between the Mazda and the car beside it, so that he is at the back of the car and the girl is at the front.

“Hey,” he says, with a calm voice.

The girl looks up. A flicker of recognition flashes past in her bright blue eyes, and she drops her keys. But she doesn’t kneel to pick them up. Instead, her gaze seems fixed on Derek. Stiles stands behind him and a bit to the right, leaning on the trunk of her car.

“D-Derek?” she croaks.

The girl blinks fast, taking a deep breath. Stiles can see she’s trying hard not to cry.

Who is this girl? Why is she crying and how does Derek know her? A million questions flood his head and it takes all his willpower not to blurt them out.

Derek nods. The girl takes a tentative step forward and wobbles, as if it’s her first baby step. Then she covers the distance between them in less than a second, and she throws her arms around Derek’s neck and buries her head in his shoulders. Slowly, he raises his arms from his sides and wraps them around the girl, tightly.

Woah. Stiles has never seen anyone hug Derek, let alone Derek hug anyone back.

How come I never get any hugs like that? Thinks Stiles. He didn’t even know that Derek was physically capable of pulling someone in close for a tight embrace. We’re going to have a nice little chat after this.

After a few awkward seconds the girl pulls back, and wipes her eyes with the sleeves of her cardigan.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I forgot how much you hate hugs.” She smiles in between tears. Derek forces a tight smile.

“It’s okay,” is all he says back.

“When—how did you find me?” She asks.

“It wasn’t easy,” he lies.

Stiles knows that Derek can find anyone faster than any human being could, by following their scent.

As easy as it is for Derek to figure out if someone is lying, it is equally as easy for him to lie to someone. Which probably means he’s lied to me about, fifty billion times. Stiles realizes that everything he knows about Derek, which isn’t a lot, is probably not true, and he really knows little to nothing about the mysterious werewolf man he now lives with. We are definitely going to have a chat after this.

“Oh,” she says. Derek nods again. He seems at a loss for words. Either he finds this girl extremely attractive (which she is, to Stiles at least) and she makes him nervous, or he has a long history with her that can’t be explained. Since Derek is an expert at controlling his feelings, it’s probably the latter.

They say nothing for a while, until Stiles clears his throat and Derek turns around, as if noticing him for the first time.

“Oh.” Derek straightens his jacket and motions for Stiles to come forward. “Sarah, this is Stiles.”

“Hello,” he says, waving once. She smiles, not showing any teeth.

“Stiles, this is my…” Derek stops in the middle of his sentence. Then he clears his throat and says, “this is uh—Sarah, she was my sister’s best friend.”

OH. Oh wow. Well, that explains everything.

“Hey,” is all she manages. Stiles nods and Derek steps back, so they are standing shoulder to shoulder.

Sarah takes a deep breath and says, “Well it was really nice to run into you today, Derek, but I’ve got to go home.”

“We need to talk.”

Sarah looks at her keys on the ground, then at her car, then at her phone, which is still on the roof. She takes it and holds it in both of her hands.

“Do you—do you have a phone?” she asks, quietly.

“Face to face,” says Derek.

Sarah nods. “Sure, just give me your number and we can schedule a date.”

“Date?” asks Derek. Stiles can see her face turn the colour of a tomato even in the dark night.

“Oh, well—not that kind of date, I meant, like…” she trailes off, stuttering.

“I know what you meant, I was just kidding.” It didn’t look like he was kidding. Derek reaches for her phone and she hands it to him. He enters his number and gives it back to her, then they turn around to leave.

“Night,” he says faintly.

“Night.” She picks up her keys from the ground and unlocks her car, and Derek and Stiles cross the parking lot to the Camaro.

 

“I know you’re dying to know what that was all about,” says Derek, once they’re in the car. “And I’ll tell you, as soon as I find out myself.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Stiles, that it’s been a decade since I’ve last talked to that girl, and the amount of information I know about her is equal to the amount of information you know—nothing,” he replies.

“That’s a lie! I could basically see all the memories flooding into her head when she looked at you. And I’m pretty sure there were some memories coming back to you, too,” Stiles retorts.

Derek ignores him.

“You know I’m right.”

*

Zac tours the house alone, familiarizing himself with every room and closet, opening doors that lead to other doors and getting lost in the maze of his new house. He thinks about what happened earlier, and shakes his head to clear any images that might make him sick again. He heads down the hall from the front entrance that leads to the kitchen and family room, and stops to look at the painting of the full moon. The moon is big and yellow, and beneath it is a small cliff, with a city below. A rock sits at the edge of the cliff, with weeds and grass around it. Stiles said something about a full moon, and mentioned the names of other people that he did not know. He said they would show up during the night of a full moon. This leads Zac to wondering what a full moon has to do with being in a relationship. Do they mark their anniversary with the full moon? Zac shakes his head, he’s sure that Derek wouldn’t do something as corny as that. He stares hard at the picture, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. It’s no use, he still can’t figure it out.

He heads down the hall and stops at the stairs that lead to the basement. There’s no door, only a winding staircase similar to the one leading upstairs. He finds a light switch after five steps and flicks it on.

The basement walls are painted eggplant purple, and Zac finds it an odd colour for a place Derek would live in. Where the stairs end, a hardwood floor begins, and Zac opens every door possible, going through a weight room (awesome, he thinks), a room full of unpacked boxes, a laundry room and a rec room with a pool table, another flat screen TV, and a built in bar. Zac runs to the bar, hoping to find a drink. But the shelves are empty, unstocked. He should’ve figured. Derek’s not one for parties and drinks. He’s a grown man. Zac is too, only a couple of year younger than Derek, and above the legal drinking age. But Stiles isn’t. He’s only seventeen, a junior in high school. He remembers his junior year, all too clearly.

It was mid-October, close to Halloween, when Serena moved to Beacon Hills. She was a gorgeous Spanish girl. Long, silky black curls, soft tan skin, bright green eyes. Zac fell for her instantly, and surprisingly, he got to her before any other guy did. They dated for a year, and then, unexpectedly, they had their first child. They were only eighteen, too young to become parents. Zac didn’t want a kid yet, but Serena was reluctant to give up. Nine months later, two months after high school graduation, they had a daughter. They named her Sophia, and together they raised her in the basement of his mother’s house while attending his first year of university. Then they moved to an apartment paid for by his mom, until he found a part time job at Abercrombie and Fitch. It was difficult going to school and working while raising a daughter. He wasn’t spending much time at home. And that’s when things began to fall apart. They would have frequent fights about his schedule with her and Sophia, and sometimes it escalated into the-neighbours-can-hear-us-yelling fights. Finally, he decided he’d had enough, and six months ago he’d moved back into his mother’s house. A month later he met Derek.

What was a normal night for most people was not for Zac. His mom had just given him the “you have to move on with your life” speech, and he’d gotten mad and went for a walk. He was walking past an abandoned stop to an underground subway when he was attacked by a gang of thugs. He didn’t like to recall the events of that night, due to the amount of pain he had gone through, but Derek had come to his rescue, running up from the subway stop and tackling all four guys to the ground alone. Then he picked him up and carried him to an animal hospital, which he found absurd, since he could’ve just called an ambulance. But he fixed him up and cleaned his wounds and from that day, Derek had been the father and best friend he’d never had although he liked to deny it and made it clear that Zac should never bring it up. And now, five months later, he’s living in his house.

Serena had called him a while back to say that she was moving back to Spain for a job opportunity, and she couldn’t take Sophia with her because there would be no one at home during the day. Zac thought that was the most bullshit excuse you could come up with, since he was pretty sure there were nannies and babysitters in Spain. But he didn’t mind having his daughter around. He loved her, even though he no longer loved her mother and he missed having her around. She was a cute girl with light brown hair and Zac’s blue eyes, and smart, with her mother’s brain and intelligent speech.

Zac snaps out of his flashback and rubs his eyes. He walks out of the bar and heads to the rec room, where a black Lazy-Boy awaits him. He plops down on it and sighs in relief as the soft leather sinks under his weight.

Later, when he’s back upstairs, he passes the painting of the full moon again, and stops to take another look at it.

A small detail that he’d overlooked catches his eye. A church cross sticks out into the night sky, from below the cliff. One side of the cross is shorter than the other. There’s only one church he knows that has a cross like that. And it’s in Beacon Hills. The pieces come flying together in his head. Stiles said something about a full moon and people showing up. Although he sort of believes the whole Derek/Stiles relationship, he knows there’s something else they’re keeping from him. And he’s going to find out what it is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first attack. A sight of something leaves Stiles wondering what's going on.

Derek wakes up with Stiles’s head on his bare chest. He rolls his eyes and glances at the time. 2:05am. He’s uncomfortable, half of Stiles’s body is on him and the other half is hanging off the bed. How did he even get in my bed without me noticing? he thinks. Derek wedges himself out of the bed, irritated but careful not to wake Stiles. He rubs his eyes and goes downstairs for a midnight snack. He lets the cool refrigerator air refresh his sweaty body as he takes the carton of milk out and pours himself a glass. As he sips his milk he allows himself to get lost in thought.

He’s not halfway done his glass when a loud shriek comes from upstairs.

“Stiles?” he shouts, running up the stairs.

“What’s going on?” asks Zac, coming out of his room, still half asleep.

Then Derek smells it, the bloody and deathly scent of an Argent.

“Zac, listen to me. Go into your room and lock the door and stay in there till I tell you it’s okay to come out,” he commands.

“What, why—” he starts.

“NOW!” shouts Derek, and runs into his room as Stiles screams once again.

“Stiles!”

One of the glass windows is completely shattered, and Stiles lies on his back on the bed, moaning. A dark black arrow sticks out of his shoulder. There is no sign of the attacker, clearly they only had one duty.

“Oh shit,” Derek whispers. He runs to the side of the bed and kneels by Stiles. Grabbing the arrow with both hands, he snaps it in half and pulls the arrow out, chucking it behind him. Stiles moans again and arches his back in pain.

“Keep still,” says Derek.

“Who…” Stiles doesn’t complete his sentence, and he takes shorter and shorter breaths.

A dark liquid oozes out of Stiles’s shoulder. Not blood, blood is thinner.

Poison.

Oh crap.

“ZAC!” yells Derek. Zac flies into the room in seconds, and flicks on the light. It’s a blinding moment for both of them as their eyes adjust to the light, but as soon as he recovers, Zac shouts “Oh my GOD! What happened?”

“Grab your keys, we’re taking him to the hospital,” Derek says. He lifts one hand under Stiles’s neck and the other under his knees, and stands up. Stiles moans loudly and blood drips everywhere.

“You mean to the animal hospital or to the actual hospital? And shouldn’t you at least put some clothes on?” asks Zac, pointing at Derek’s half-nude body.

“The actual hospital will take hours to suck this poison out of him. If it stays in his body for longer than an hour it could kill him,” he replies, ignoring the second question.

“Poison?”

“Zac! No time for questions here, Stiles is in serious trouble! Get your damn keys!”

They fly down the stairs faster than the speed of light.

Zac opens the back door of his SUV and Derek tilts Stiles’s body to get him in. He doesn’t moan this time, which only means one thing: he’s unconscious.

“Quickly,” says Derek, and Zac starts his car. Derek takes out his phone and calls the only person who is very likely to know what to do.

They make it to the animal hospital in record time without being flagged down for speeding. Deaton is already there, setting up the operation table. Derek, still carrying Stiles’s limp body, runs to the operating table. Deaton puts the oxygen mask used for animals (hopefully it’s clean) on Stiles’ faces and turns on the oxygen machine. A steady beep begins and Stiles’ chest begins to rise and fall again.

“I’ll take it from here,” says Deaton calmly.

“I’m staying,” replies Derek.

“Me too,” adds Zac.

Deaton shrugs. “Make yourself useful then, hand me a syringe.”

When they’re finished, Stiles’ shoulder is rolled with a white bandage and they begin wiping down the operating table, the floor and the counter of blood and poison and clean up the toxic waste. Only when they are finished cleaning up the place can Derek begin to ask himself questions.

He knows the poison, that’s for sure. It’s from the same arrow that the Argents shot Scott with, that very first day he became a wolf. It was stronger on humans than it was on wolves, because humans don’t have the ability to reject the toxins and heal themselves. That’s why Stiles had passed out almost immediately.

Derek leans on the wall and tilts his head back, still shirtless. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Derek?” whispers Zac.

Derek opens his eyes. “What?”

“Are we going to stay here all night?”

“You can go home if you want, but I’m staying.” Zac isn’t scrawny like Stiles, but Derek can see that he’s cold. He never had a chance to throw on some clothes either.

Zac heads towards the door, “Do you want me to drop off some clothes for you?”

Derek shakes his head.

“What about for Stiles?”

“He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweat pants, he’ll be all right.”

“Okay. What time do you want me to come back to pick you up?”

“Whenever you wake up,” he answers.

“Okay.” He opens the door.

“Zac?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful.”

“Okay.” He repeats for the third time. The door shuts behind him and Derek is left alone with Deaton and Stiles in an animal hospital at three o’clock in the morning.

*

Stiles is in pain. His entire arm is numb, and he can’t even move the fingers on his left hand. With every beat of his heart, his head pounds. He feels groggy, like someone drugged him with something strong. He rips off the gas mask and slowly sits up, confused. It takes him a while but he realizes he’s in the animal hospital, and Derek is sitting in the corner leaning on the wall, asleep. Sunlight pours in through the broken window of the door. Dogs bark from the back. There is a white bandage wrapped around his shoulder.

What happened last night?

He tries to recall the events, but they are foggy and distorted and it hurts his head even more to think about it. Stiles rubs both of his eyes with his good hand, and hops off the table. His vision goes completely blurry for a second and he has to stand still with his eyes closed until his head stops spinning. He doesn’t disturb Derek, and instead, walks over to the hospital phone but before he can dial Scott’s number, a familiar voice says, “I could’ve sworn you have the healing powers of a werewolf.”

Stiles spins around and faces Deaton in his lab coat, with his hands in his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I work here, remember?”

“Well, I mean, what happen—”

Deaton cuts him off. “Don’t worry Stiles, Scott should be here soon for his early morning shift. I’ll explain everything then.

*

Serena is supposed to arrive at noon with Sophia. Zac abruptly sits up in bed and checks his phone. 11:30am. Oh no. He jumps off his bed and runs to the washroom, turning on the shower. Throwing off his boxers, he gets in, and as quickly as he can, he rinses his body.  
When he’s clean and wrapped in a towel, Zac begins to recall the crazy events of last night. Derek admitting his love to Stiles. The arrow shot into Stiles’ shoulder. Driving him to the animal hospital at three o’clock in the morning.  
Wait. Derek and Stiles are still at the animal hospital! I’m supposed to go pick them up!  
“Crap,” he says to himself. He quickly shaves and pulls on black skinny jeans, a purple v-neck, and a white cardigan.  
He gets into his car and speeds away from the house.

*

Derek wakes up before Scott arrives. He stretches his neck from side to side and rubs out the kinks. Slowly, he pulls himself up, back aching from the hours spent leaning against the wall. When he opens his eyes he sees Stiles sitting on the operating table, looking at him. Well, at his abs.

“You’re up,” he says, but it sounds like a question. He walks over to Stiles and stands in front of him.

“Yeah I am.” Stiles looks tired and weak. Derek puts his hands on either sides of the table, hardly an inch away from Stiles’s legs.

“Where’s Deaton?”

“In the front, cleaning up or feeding the dogs.”

He lowers his head for a long time and neither of them says anything until Derek whispers, “you scared me.”

“Wha—What? I scared you?” replies Stiles in disbelief. His mouth drops and his eyebrows raise and he does that unbelievably dorky yet adorable awed facial expression.

Woah. Did he just think Stiles was adorable? No. No, that wasn’t his brain.

Stiles continues when Derek doesn’t respond. “I nearly died of a heart attack when that—thing—whatever it was, jumped in through the window.”

Derek looks up at Stiles. His eyes are a nice colour—soft hazel with flecks of yellow.  
“So you remember what happened?”

“Hardly, all I know is that last night I was asleep in your bed and then—” He stops midsentence and blushes.

“About that, what brought you into my bed?” asks Derek. He steps back and crosses his arms.

“Well, you know umm—” Stiles stutters and shrugs and looks away. “You told Zac that you and I were dating so…I tried to make it convincing?” His lie sounds like a question and Derek hides a smile.

Derek goes back to his previous position, and this time he brings his hands closer to Stiles’s legs. “You’re lying,” he whispers. He holds Stiles’s gaze for a few seconds, and stills to listen closely to the sound of his heartbeat. He’s definitely lying, he thinks. Stiles’s heart beats faster and he says nothing. But there’s something else. He takes another deep breath and puts his finger on the feeling.  
Lust.  
Oh no. Oh no no no.  
Derek takes all his thoughts and emotions, gathers them into one big pile and shoves them beneath his cool, calm exterior. He changes the subject.  
“You feeling okay?”

Stiles shrugs and says, “That’s not what you care about, and it’s not what I care about either. I have questions, and I want answers. I want to know what happened last night.”

“Me too,” says Scott.

Derek and Stiles turn their heads in unison.

“How did you know we were here?” asks Derek.

“He works here, remember?” asks Stiles, repeating Deaton’s words.

“What the hell did you guys do?” Scott notices Stiles’ arm and the fact that Derek has no clothes on except for underwear, he says, “Okay, spill.”

Derek sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He raises his eyebrows and looks at the ceiling. Scott looks at Stiles and Stiles shrugs. There is an awkward moment of silence before Derek speaks up.

“I don’t really know what happened.”

Scott gives him a look that says “yeah right” and Stiles scoffs.

“Okay fine—I think I know. But I can’t tell you here,” he says.

“Seriously? How long are we going to wait? Till one of us is dead?” cried Stiles.

“No, you idiot. I won’t let that happen,” replies Derek. His heart wrenches thinking about what he’d do if someone hurt Stiles or Scott.

Stiles rolls his eyes and hops off the table.

“Oh my God, you know what? I don’t really care anymore. I don’t care about you, or your werewolf pack, or your crazy ‘people are coming after me’ problem, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just walk home in pajamas with a bandaged arm,” snaps Stiles. He heads toward the door and they don’t try to stop him.

*

Stiles doesn’t get five steps out the door when he bumps into Zac.  
“Oh my God. Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he says.

“It’s okay. Where’s Derek?” replies Zac.

“He umm, he…he’s talking to someone else and I decided to leave. Can we just go?” Stiles looks up at Zac, squinting because of the bright morning sun. He runs a hand over his thin hair.

“Yeah sure, let’s go,” he says.

“Didn’t happen to bring any extra clothes with you? I’m kinda walking around in pajamas.”

“Sorry Stiles, I was in a hurry. Besides, your pajamas don’t really look like pajamas. It’s just a t-shirt and sweat pants, and we’re going straight home so no one will see you anyway.”

“Good point,” Stiles remarks.

“And Serena’s supposed to be here at 12:00 and it’s already—” he looks at his watch, “11:43.” He runs around the corner of the animal hospital to where his SUV is parked.

*

As soon as he steps into the house, Stiles books it upstairs. He throws open the door to his room and strips off all of his clothes halfway to the bathroom. He steps into the shower and stays that way for a while, letting the water run down his body. He hates himself and hates Derek and hates Scott and everyone and everything associated with them. Stiles dumps shampoo onto his barely-there hair, and as he massages it into a lather, he thinks about Derek.

He thinks about that first day in the woods when he first laid eyes on Derek Hale. Derek was wearing a white shirt and his leather jacket. Same outfit as last night’s. Him and Scott were looking for the dead half body, which he later found out to be Derek’s sister, Laura, when he heard “what are you doing here?” Everything changed when they made eye contact. Stiles thought Derek was handsome, with his hair spiked up and his straight, stiff posture. The way his mouth hardly moved when he talked. The way he put his arms in his pockets and stood with his legs apart, as if to say, “this is my property”. But Stiles was in love with Lydia, there was no way he was giving up that crush easily for a twenty something year old prick with anger management issues.

Or so he thought. From that moment on, every time Stiles laid eyes on Derek, his heart would beat faster and his knees would go weak. He looked up to him, and as they spent more and more time together, Stiles began to fall for him. Not like the way a girl might fall for her best guy friend, no. It was almost as if he hated Derek so much that he loved him, if that made any sense. He still loved Lydia though, no doubt about that. But something about Derek made him feel different. Stronger. Wiser. Safer.

Okay fine, he liked Derek. And he was sure that Derek liked him back, even if he was too stubborn or shy or reluctant or whatever it was that was holding him back from admitting it. After all, you don’t invite people you don’t like to come live with you. Last night, when Stiles had fallen asleep on Derek’s bed, he synced their breaths so that when Derek breathed in, Stiles would breathe in. And when Derek breathed out, he breathed out. It was a great feeling, to fall asleep beside someone so strong and powerful and protective. No, Stiles did not like Derek. He like liked Derek. He more-than-just-an-admiring-like liked Derek. He wanted Derek to feel the same way.

At times, he was almost positive that Derek was showing just a little bit of affection, like when he tore off the cheese from his lasagne and gave it to Stiles, claiming he wasn’t really fond of the stuff even though Stiles knew that he loves it.

And at other times, Derek treated Stiles like he was nothing more than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes, telling him to shut up and that the only reason he allowed him to move in was because he had no other place to go. Not directly, but enough that Stiles understood the message loud and clear: no one wants you around. At those times, Derek made him feel worthless and helpless, and it was the complete opposite feeling of contentment. It’s like living with an alcoholic parent—they’re nice when they’re sober and mean when they’re drunk. Derek knew how to control his feelings though, so it meant that whenever he switched over to the cocky side, it was on purpose. It frustrated Stiles. How are you supposed to love someone who does an equal amount of good and bad things to you? Because you can’t hate them, but you certainly can’t love them either. It was times like these that Stiles thought Derek only took him in because he felt sorry for him, not because he liked him and not because he needed him. But because no one else did.

Then he thinks of Sarah and of how absurd it is that Derek just happened to find her when he needed her. He knew that Derek totally bullshitted his excuse and Sarah totally bought it. Which reminds him, they still need to have that talk, about hugs and whatnot.

Oh wait, Stiles was mad at Derek. As if he’d even ever give him a hug. Ha.

Stiles steps out of the shower and dries himself off. He glances at his bare wound. It’s about the size of a nickel, and the edges of the puncture are lined with fresh red blood. It doesn’t hurt much, unless he presses on it. Stiles sighs and rewraps the bandage around his shoulder, then gets dressed.

*

The doorbell rings and Zac jumps a foot into the air off the couch. He’d been looking for a job online, and hadn’t even noticed the time. He snaps his laptop shut and stands up. Taking a deep breath, he straightens his clothes and walks to the door.

“DADDY!” Yells Sophia, and she jumps into his arms.

“Hey baby,” he says. He picks her up and hugs her tightly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too daddy,” she says, and tightens her grip on his neck.

Serena stands with her arms crossed. She looks a little bit different than the last time he saw her. Her hair is longer now, almost reaching down to her hips with the ends died a light brown. She wears a denim button down shirt, tucked into white shorts. Her shoes are black Toms, and her bag a nude colour. Sunglasses are perched at the top of her head, and she has a small silver nose piercing in her right nostril. She looks like a teenage girl, not a twenty-two year old mother.

Zac puts Sophia down. “Hey,” he says. He manages to make eye contact. “You look…great.” He smiles at her, but she doesn’t smile back.

“Let’s skip the ‘I miss you, how are you doing, have a good time in Spain’ crap and just get down to it, shall we?” She says. Her voice is hard but not cold, like she wants to come off as independent but not rude. Zac nods. He understands.

“All right, what do you want me to do?” He asks. She motions for him to follow her and opens the trunk of her car. Inside are three large suitcases and a few small boxes.

“Sophia has a lot of clothes, toys and useless things. But she insisted I bring them all,” she begins. Sophia stands behind Zac, her hands on the back of his knees. He takes her hand and pulls her beside him.

“Okay,” he says.

“She usually gets up every morning around nine o’clock, but since it’s almost September you’re going to have to train her to go to bed earlier and get up earlier. That way she’ll be ready for her first year of school.”

Zac nods in response.

“She eats any kind of cereal for breakfast, except for cornflakes,” she continues, as he helps her pull out a fifty pound black suitcase. “Then, around eleven o’clock, she’ll have a small snack. Fruits and vegetables work, but I also allow some sorts of crackers or cookies. No unhealthy things.” They drop the suitcase on the ground and Zac grabs the handle while Serena picks up a box. They walk back to the house, Sophia trailing behind them.

“She doesn’t eat lunch until twelve thirty, and for lunch you can feed her anything, except for toast. She prefers bagels.” So do I, thinks Zac. He looks down at Sophia and smiles. The last time he saw her was six months ago, right before him and Serena broke up. She’d been a tiny little toddler then and had refused to eat anything except for animal crackers.

“Around four o’clock, she goes for a nap, so when you pick her up from school, she’ll probably want to go to sleep. She’ll sleep for about an hour to an hour and a half, and when she wakes up, she’ll play or watch TV until dinner at six thirty.”

Wow, thinks Zac. Tight schedule. Most likely, they’d followed this schedule back when they still lived together, but Zac had been too busy with school to notice.

“Her bed time is nine o’clock, and I usually give her those few hours after dinner to do whatever she wants.” By this time, there are exactly three suitcases and four medium sized cardboard boxes in the front entrance of the house.

“Any questions?” she asks. Serena takes a hair tie off her wrist and ties her long hair back with it.

“Hmm, nope, not any that are coming to mind right now,” he replies. He takes Sophia’s hand and smiles down at her. She smiles back.

“Okay well, my flight is in a few hours and I have to get back home because my mom is driving me to the airport, so…” she trails off. Zac clears his throat and says, “good luck.” She smiles, showing two rows of perfectly straight teeth.

“Thanks, you too,” she says with a chuckle. He manages a smile and Serena bends down to give Sophia a hug.

“Mommy loves you, okay? She loves you and she misses you and she’ll come back for visits as often as she can! Be good to daddy.” She hugs her tightly and Sophia says “I love you too Mommy.” Then she leaves and gets into her car and she’s waving as she drives away.

*

Derek likes Sophia. She’s cute, with bright blue eyes and a silly laugh. She’s light hearted and well behaved, and not afraid of him. She sits on the couch in the living room in Zac’s arms, watching a cartoon show. She reminds him of Zac, same physical appearance and easy going personality, but also of someone else. Laura.

Derek is standing at the oven, mixing spices with a thick creamy mushroom sauce, when Stiles enters the kitchen. He hasn’t spoken a word since he stormed off at the animal hospital, and Derek hasn’t said anything to him either. Stiles opens the fridge and takes out the jug of orange juice, and grabs a glass from the cupboard. Derek puts down the utensil he was using to mix the sauce and walks over to the sink to wash his hands. Stiles has just finished pouring the juice and he turns around abruptly, purposely bumping into Derek and spilling cold orange juice all over his chest.

“Oops,” says Stiles sarcastically, and shrugs.

“You did that on purpose. Pathetic.” Derek rips off his shirt.

Stiles tries not to stare. “How are you going to prove that huh? Oh wait, why am I asking you a question?” Stiles cocks his head slightly to the side and raises his eyebrows. “You don’t answer them anyway.” He screws the cap back on the jug and sidesteps Derek to the fridge.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” snaps Derek.

Stiles doesn’t answer, and he walks out of the kitchen without his glass of orange juice.

“What’s going on between you two?” asks Zac, turning sideways on the couch so Derek can see his face instead of the back of his head.

Derek shakes his head and says, “nothing.”

They end up eating dinner on the couch again, but without Stiles. Sophia enjoys the food and she takes more than he expects a four year old to eat. Derek hardly tastes his food, all he can think about is how he upset Stiles and how hungry he must be right now. The kid eats 24/7. He gets up off the couch and dumps the food in his plate into the garbage and tosses the plate into the sink. Then he goes upstairs.

Derek knocks on Stiles’s door. He doesn’t hear anything so he knocks again, louder this time.

“Who is it?” says Stiles.

Derek doesn’t ask if he can come in, he just pushes open the door. Stiles lies on his bed on top of the covers, with his laptop on his stomach. He looks up when Derek comes in then quickly looks down again, pretending to be focused on whatever is on his screen. Derek sits down on the side of Stiles’s bed, facing him. Slowly, he shuts the laptop and Stiles lets out a frustrated breath.

“What do you want?” he asks rudely.

“To talk,” replies Derek.

Stiles looks up at him. They hold eye contact for a second, then Stiles pulls away and rolls over onto his side, so that his back is to Derek.  
“You want to talk? You never ‘talk’.”

“You never ate dinner, Stiles.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

“Well why does that concern you? Maybe today I’m just not hungry, so if that’s the only thing you came here to tell me then you can leave now because I don’t want to eat.”

“Stiles, the only time you’d ever not want to eat is if someone made you very upset,” says Derek softly. Stiles says nothing and Derek listens to him breathing for a few seconds before continuing. “I know there are some things you want to know, Stiles. And I trust you to know. I want to tell you, and I will, but first I have to make sure that I understand it fully before I let you know what it is.”

“Why?” he asks, almost inaudibly.

“Because you tend to get way in over your head when something happens,” he answers.

Stiles scoffs. “You think I’m a child, that I’m not mature enough to handle knowing whatever it is that almost killed me last night.”

“No, Stiles. I didn’t say that, and don’t twist my words,” Derek brings his serious voice back and Stiles doesn’t reply. “I don’t think you’re a child, and I could give you many reasons why but I’m sure you already know it. You just want to hear me say it.”

Stiles looks up at Derek.

“You think you’re not worth anything, partly because I made you feel that way. Well it’s not true, Stiles. If you hadn’t been in the right place at the right time, countless times, I would have been dead. But I’m not, thanks to you. So don’t think for one second that I would sooner rather than later get rid of you because I would never do that to someone I lo—” Derek realizes what he was about to say and stops talking. Silence hangs in the air and he can feel Stiles looking at him. Derek clears his throat and stands up.

“Anyway, if you get hungry, there’s food downstairs,” he says, and leaves.

Stiles grabs his phone and makes a call.

“Scott, I think Derek just said he loves me.”

“Spill,” is all Scott manages to answer with.

*

Stiles knows that’s the closest he’ll ever get to an apology from Derek, so he decides to accept it. He rolls off his bed and enters Derek’s room.

The lights are off, but the door to the bathroom is shut and Stiles can hear the water running. He stands in the doorway for a bit, looking at the destruction of the room. Derek swept up the glass but he left it in a pile in the corner of the room. A long, ten-inch shard of glass is all that’s left hanging from the broken window. The other two windows are undamaged. Derek’s bedroom window leads out onto the roof of the house, facing the backyard. Stiles walks to it and sticks his head out, getting a breath of fresh, summer night air.

Then he hears it. A low growl, coming from above. Slowly, Stiles tilts his head to look up.

A dark, furry creature with huge claws is hanging onto the edge of the roof. It has piercing red eyes and long, sharp fangs. A werewolf. And not just any werewolf, an alpha werewolf.

But before Stiles can yell for help, the werewolf hops off the roof and runs away, into the safety of the nearby trees.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles makes a move. Derek doesn't like it. Then Zac and Derek get drunk. The effects make Derek's feelings come out, and he enters Stiles' room at night...

Derek strips his shirt off and unbuckles his belt. He steps out of his pants and into the shower. It’s been a week since Stiles, Zac and Sophia moved in, and so far they’ve been managing to get along. Well, mostly with Zac and Sophia. Stiles on the other hand is too difficult to please. Ever since the incident with the Argents’ attack, Stiles has been developing theories and informing Derek of all the details. Derek mostly ignored him. They’ve been pretending to be dating, but the closest form of physical contact they got was sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch watching TV. Derek was pretty sure Zac was still unconvinced, but he didn’t really care. Whatever it was he thought happened that day, he’d probably forgotten about it. He hopes he forgot about it. The last thing he wants to do is tell Zac that he secretly has a bunch of other friends he’s never told him about, and that he’s actually a werewolf, not a human. Not that he doesn’t trust Zac, but he knows exactly how he’d react. Not like Stiles, eager to ask questions and awed by the situation, but the exact opposite. Zac would get freaked out and shut himself out and refuse to speak to them again. He liked Zac, and he didn’t want to ruin their friendship, just like he’d ruined everything else in his entire life. The most thing Derek liked about Zac was he always listened to what Derek told him to do and didn’t jump to conclusions about everything, like Stiles. The guys lost his girlfriend (not as dramatically as Derek lost his—he still shuddered whenever he thought about Kate, even though she is buried ten feet under the ground and probably decayed by now) but Zac still managed to keep a smile on his face and have actual conversations with people.

Stiles, on the other hand, was a mess of a person. He had way too many emotions, thoughts and energy. The guy never seemed to get tired, except for the nights that Derek had tried to kick him out of his bed. Most of the time, Derek hated Stiles. He annoyed him easily, with his “oh my GODs” and crazy ideas and the fact that he always seemed to be right about everything. Stiles was brilliant, Derek admitted to himself, but he was also the world’s most hyperactive seventeen year old.

But, something inside of him said, there’s also a side of him you like.

Nope, nope there wasn’t, and Derek wasn’t about to go there with himself.

Instead he distracted himself by thinking of Sarah. She’d been in town for exactly three weeks now, moving back from Arizona. Derek had talked to her twice since, once at the parking lot of the mall and the other, at a coffee shop on a late afternoon. She’d said she moved back because she broke up with her ex-husband, but Derek knew that was a lie. Sarah’s best friend’s family had burned to death, and the only survivor was talking to her. A couple years later, his sister had been cut in half. People don’t come back to a place where that happened. In fact, most of them tried to get away from it. Something wasn’t right. He knew she was lying, but he didn’t know why. Why would someone lie about coming back to their old town?

He rinses the shampoo out of his hair and arches his back under the shower head, stretching.

If Sarah was back in town, it wasn’t because she wanted to be. It was because she needed to be. Someone or something had lured her back to Beacon Hills. He had a hunch it had to do with the Argents.

And Stiles.

*

Stiles stands in Derek’s room a couple nights later, thinking about whether or not he should tell him about the alpha he saw on the roof of the house. The window’s been fixed, and there’s been no sign of the creature again, so he opens it and climbs out onto the roof, looking at the night sky. The moon is almost full.

Stiles had told Scott about the werewolf and made him swear he wouldn’t tell another soul on the planet so long as he lived. Scott told him not to worry, because sometimes werewolves passed through the country on their own. But something nagged him, and it had to do with the fact that a night after being attacked, he’d seen another alpha. He sighed and rested his hands behind his head, not knowing what to do.

Stiles had been planning on telling Derek about the alpha and he’d even rehearsed his lines. But now he didn’t think that was such a good idea. It would worry Derek, and as of now they were on pretty good terms. Well, as good as terms with Derek ever were. Stiles didn’t want to ruin that again. At the same time though, he knew he needed to tell him, or else it would turn around and bite him in the ass and Derek would be more than pissed. Then the pretty good terms would turn into not-so-pretty-good terms. Stiles didn’t like it when Derek was mad at him. It made him feel…he didn’t exactly know how it made him feel, but he didn’t like it. A couple days ago, when Stiles was hot and uncomfortable in his bed, he’d tiptoed into Derek’s room. Derek was on his back, shirtless and pant-less (but not underwear-less, thank God), the covers on the floor. Moonlight seeped in through the fixed window, and it illuminated Derek’s already pale body. Stiles stood above him for a while, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. His eyes had travelled down, from his innocent looking face, to his biceps, to his abdominal muscles, to his…

Stiles stopped himself. He knew he found Derek attractive, he knew that. What confused him was his orientation. Stiles had liked Lydia since third grade (he still did), even though he knew he had no chance with her.

Stiles shakes his head and lets out a loud sigh. If he’d still been living at home, his dad would surely have a police case that would (not intentionally) distract him. But that’s impossible now. His dad lost his job, and now he’s probably drinking while watching reruns of Friends, his mother’s favourite TV show.

His mother.

No, no. Stiles is not going to go down memory lane, or else he might end up crying on the roof of Derek’s house, right outside his room where Derek could hear him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to cry, he just doesn’t want to cry in front of Derek because he’s one hundred percent sure that Derek wouldn’t offer him his shoulders (as Scott did, multiple times after his mother’s death). Instead he’d look at him in disgust, with no sympathy whatsoever and tell him to shut up. Then he’d pretend that nothing happened. Derek was good at pretending nothing happened.

“What are you doing out here?” asks Derek suddenly.

“Oh my GOD,” shouts Stiles, jumping out of his skin. “You scared me!”

Derek looks at him with his head out the window and says, “Why? All I did was ask you what you were doing here.”

“Yeah well, you did that silent creeping thing you do when you don’t want anyone to hear your footsteps.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did! You totally did! Otherwise I would’ve heard you!”

“I called your name and you never heard me, so then I asked you what you were doing and you nearly died of a heart attack.” Derek crawls out onto the roof with jeans on, but no shirt.

Oh my God, thinks Stiles. Was I really that lost in thought?

“So for the second time, what are you doing out here?” asks Derek, pulling his legs up and resting his arms on them.

Why doesn’t Derek have a shirt on oh God I really can’t do this right now but OH MY GOD look at his arms muscles why is he flexing them is he doing that on purpose holy crap I have to look away.

Stiles looks away and answers with another question. “Why don’t you have a shirt on?”

Derek turns his head to look at him. “Oh sorry, I forgot you couldn’t control your hormones,” he says, and hops back into his room. Stiles follows him.

“No one can control their hormones,” he replies, throwing his hands up in defence.

“I can.” Derek rummages in his drawers for a shirt and pulls out a dark grey one.

Stiles watches him put it on. Then he tears his gaze away and says, “Yeah well, that’s because you have no hormones.”

“Everyone has hormones,” he scruffs.

“You’re right. Everyone does have hormones. Every human has hormones. You’re not a human,” he retorts. Maybe that’s why you don’t have feelings for me.

“Oh yeah?” challenges Derek, and he quickly closes the space between them, until Stiles’ nose is mere inches away from Derek’s and he’s having trouble breathing.

Stiles looks up into Derek’s grey eyes, and Derek looks down into Stiles’ light eyes. Stiles can feel every breath that Derek puffs out, and forces himself to take a short breath.

“What’s wrong, Stilinski? Out of words?” Derek doesn’t look away as he talks, continuing with “See? You’re having trouble controlling your hormones. They’ve left you speechless. I, on the other hand—” Derek pauses to run one of his fingers along Stiles’ jawline. His heart skips a beat and nearly jumps out of his mouth. “Can,” he completes.

“In order to control your hormones, you have to be aroused,” he manages to squeak out. “Are you aroused by this, Derek? Do I arouse you?”

Derek pauses and looks blankly at Stiles. Stiles can’t tell what he’s thinking, but he knows that Derek can tell what he’s feeling by listening to the sound of his heartbeat. He knows that Derek knows that he likes him. And he knows that Derek knows that he thinks Derek might like him back.

“In your sweet human dreams,” he whispers, with his lips hardly moving. They say nothing for a while, they just stare at their reflections in each other’s eyes.

“Really?” asks Stiles, softly. Then, he shuts his eyes and closes the distance between them before giving Derek a chance to back up.

Derek’s lips taste like salt and blood, and it’s all Stiles can do to hold himself together. He gets a few seconds of what heaven feels like and then Derek’s hand is on his chest and he pushes him away, hard. Stiles nearly loses his balance and Derek wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his face distorted in anger.

“What the hell was that?” he shouts.

“Derek I—” he begins.

But Derek doesn’t give him a chance to finish. “What is it with you, Stiles? First you kiss me on the cheek, then you force me into lying that we’re in a relationship, and now you try to shove your tongue down my throat?”

“I didn’t—”

“Get out,” he says, interrupting him again. He turns his back and stomps away from Stiles.

Stiles lowers his head and takes a few steps toward the door. He looks back at Derek and says, “You can’t keep pushing me away forever, you know.” Then he walks out without waiting for an answer.

*

“Bye Sophia, I’ll be home soon!” Zac grabs his keys off the hallway table and slips on his shoes. Stiles stands behind Sophia, his hands on her shoulders.

“Bye daddy,” she says, smiling. He smiles back at her then looks up at Stiles.

“She usually eats around eleven, okay? But I’ll probably be back before then,” says Zac, his hand on the doorknob.

Stiles nods without saying anything or looking at Zac. He stops before leaving and asks “Is everything okay?” Stiles doesn’t answer. “Stiles?”

“Hmm?” He looks up, startled.

“I said, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m great,” says Stiles, with no enthusiasm. Zac knows something’s bothering him but he decides not to press on it.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He gets into his car and drives to his first interview since graduating from university.

*

Stiles does not want to watch over Sophia while Zac’s gone. The only thing he wants to watch is The Titanic, over and over again, under the covers of his bed for the rest of his life. But he promised Zac, so he heads downstairs with Sophia in tow to the playroom.

When Serena said that Sophia had a lot of useless things, she wasn’t joking. What was once an extra room in the basement is now the grounds of WWIII. Toys are everywhere, from puzzles to cash register machines to dolls to cars to kitchen supplies to action figures. You can hardly see the floor. Sophia carefully steps over all of her toys and clears a space in front of the plastic kitchen. Stiles leans on the door frame, not risking a chance of stepping on something that will probably cause him a lot of pain. She starts to talk to herself, getting completely lost in her own world. He wishes he could do that, lose himself in an alternate universe where Derek and him could get along. His imagination is creative, but not enough to imagine Derek being happy with him and laughing and cuddling and enjoying all the small things that couples enjoy.

Stiles hears Derek walking around upstairs and thinks about going to apologize. He could say he was sorry for jumping on him, but technically Derek had teased him first. That’s what had made him do what he did. But no, he’s not sorry. He’s not sorry he did, not sorry he kissed Derek. But sorry about the way things had turned out afterwards. Derek was mostly likely going to ignore him until Stiles did something stupid enough that would require rescuing, then Derek would call him an idiot and that was as good as saying he’s not mad anymore. He sighs loudly. Derek confuses him.

*

Derek pulls up to his old house. Sitting on the steps are Boyd, Isaac and Erica, talking. He walks towards them and their conversation stops as he nears.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asks.

Boyd shrugs and Erica says, “Just hanging out.”

“Isn’t there anywhere else you can hang out? Like the mall or an ice cream shop?”

“I don’t like ice cream,” Isaac pipes up. Everyone looks at him in disbelief, and he shrugs innocently.

“Actually Derek, there was something we wanted to talk to you about,” says Boyd.

“What?” Derek is getting impatient.

“When are you going to admit your love for Stiles?” asks Erica.

“What?” Derek repeats in disbelief.

“Scott called me, told me that Stiles told him that you practically said you love him,” says Isaac.

“I didn’t—” he begins, but Erica cuts him off.

“Save it, alpha. We all know you love him, now go tell him so you can live happily ever after because we’re getting sick of this.”

“My love life is none of your business,” snaps Derek.

“You don’t have a love life” Boyd says, but it sounds like a question.

“Exactly,” he answers and gets back in his car, leaving the pack in a cloud of dust.

*

Zac leaves his interview, his heart in his throat, giddy. He’s almost sure he nailed that job. He gets into his car with a smile plastered on his face and decides to stock up on ice cream and grab three fresh pizzas on his way home.

“What’s all this?” asks Derek, as soon as he walks in.

“Celebration,” he answers. “I’m feeling good, and I want to feel even better.” He grins widely and holds up a bottle of scotch.

“That’s not a good idea,” says Derek firmly. But he’s not quite sure it isn’t, because he could really use something that will blur the thoughts spinning in his mind after the conversation with his pack.

“Well, I almost officially have a job and so I kind of think it is a good idea.” He sets down the pizzas on the counter and drops the grocery bag of ice cream tubs beside it. Then he reaches for two wine glasses from the cupboard, and pops open the wine bottle.

“What job?” he asks.

“Coach,” Zac pauses and takes a sip of his drink “Of the Beacon Hills soccer team.”

Derek pats him on the back and manages a small congratulations.

“Where’s Stiles and Sophia?” asks Zac suddenly.

Oh no, not more talk about Stiles. Derek resists the urge to roll his eyes and empties his glass in one gulp. Then he takes the bottle and raises it to his lips, chugging half of it down. “I don’t know,” he mumbles.

Zac raises his eyebrows. “What’s going on between you guys anyway? It’s like, ever since you started dating there’s been this black cloud hanging over your heads that disappears one day, and reappears for five.” He takes a large sip from his glass.  
Derek doesn’t say anything.  
Zac shrugs and they walk to the living room and plop down on the couch. He grabs the remote and flicks on the TV.  
“I just hope you guys resolve your issues because I like it better when you’re both happy,” says Zac.  
“Me too,” answers Derek, thinking that maybe he should drink alcohol more often.

*

“You did what?” asks Scott in disbelief.

Stiles sighs through the phone and repeats himself. “Kissed him. I. Kissed. Him.” He’s sitting on the couch in the basement, watching a blank television screen. Sophia sits on the ground beside him, running an action figure of Captain America over with a toy truck, oblivious to the conversation.

“No, no, no, I heard what you said, I just don’t understand why,” says Scott.

“Umm…I might be attracted to guys?” suggests Stiles.

Scott is quiet for a second before he says, “I gotta admit, I saw that coming.”

“Oh come on dude! Are you serious?” he replies.

Scott chuckles on the other end. “Well, you were the one sleeping with him that day you got attacked.”

“Yeah but…we never did anything. We just slept!” Stiles can feel Scott rolling his eyes. “Oh by the way, what did Derek tell you that day in the animal hospital?”

“You mean that day you had a hissy fit and left with a pout?” jokes Scott.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Just tell me,” he begs.

“Derek said he really didn’t know who it was, only that it was an Argent.”

“AN ARGENT?”shouts Stiles. Sophia raised her head in alarm, but went back to her toys when he patted her head. “What? How?”

“I don’t know,” Scott replies. “I asked Allison of the whereabouts of her dad that day, and she said they were having a movie night.”

“Allison doesn’t have movie nights, Scott,” claims Stiles.

“Allison doesn’t lie to me, either,” he replies.

Stiles sighs. “Oh my God. So anyway, what should I do? I’ve been avoiding him since the beginning of the day, but you know how long my stomach can handle emptiness and I can’t stay in the basement forever.”

“Talk to him?”

Stiles groans and throws his head back. “That’s about the worst advice you’ve ever given,” he says. “And you give horrible advice.”

“Hey!” shouts Scott.

Stiles smiles.

“Just do it. Talk to him, and if things don’t work out, you can always sleep in my closet.” Stiles can hear Scott smirking.

“I hate you and you’re the worst friend ever,” he says, and hangs up.

Stiles sighs and gets up. “I’m going upstairs, wanna come?” he asks Sophia.

“Okay,” she cheerfully says, and grabs a couple of her action figures and dolls as she can fit in her hands.

Every step up the stairs is another ball of dread in Stiles’ stomach. It’s not that he’s scared of Derek, he just doesn’t want to hear what he’s going to say about what happened last night. Stiles climbs the remaining few steps and sees the back of Derek and Zac’s heads on the couch. Zac appears to be making a joke, because all of Derek’s attention is focused on him and when he stops, Derek throws his head back in laughter, then he tips over, still laughing.

He’s obviously drunk.

But it’s the most beautiful noise he’s ever heard. Stiles could listen to Derek’s laughter all day. He didn’t even know Derek was physically capable of laughing. He stands at the top of the steps, watching the scene unfold. It’s taking every bit of willpower he’s got not to join them, but he knows they’d refuse to let him drink. Zac and Derek may be young adults, but they’re the most responsible young adults he knows. Sophia runs to the living room and instead of following her, he quietly tiptoes upstairs and slips into his room, shutting the door behind him.

*

Later that night, Derek sits on the beanbag chair in the reading nook at the end of the hall upstairs. He still has a hangover, and the words on the pages in front of him are all scrambled and blurry. He blinks rapidly and rubs his temples with his fingers. He had a good afternoon with Zac, he admits to himself. He just hopes that Stiles was too busy sulking to notice. But Stiles is never too busy sulking to stick his nose into everyone’s business. He probably saw them, or heard them, but just didn’t say anything. Derek realizes that this may be one of the few times he hasn’t heard Stiles speak in a whole day. At least, not to him. He has no doubt that he called Scott and spilled the beans.

He knows that Stiles is a teenager, and sometimes acts on impulse. He knows that and he understands it. He just wishes that Stiles would understand his actions. Derek never meant to push Stiles away, in fact, he definitely wanted to continue. He was just too wimpy to admit it. He puffs out an angry breath, then gets up and walks down the hall to Stiles’ room.

He doesn’t even knock, he just pushes the door open. Stiles is on his bed in a loose t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. What is it with this kid and plaid? He’s reading the first book of the Chronicles of Narnia, and he doesn’t even glance up or say anything, even though he knows that it’s Derek.

He stands by the bed and crosses his arms. Stiles still doesn’t say anything. Finally, Derek breaks the silence.

“You can’t ignore me forever.”

Stiles scoffs. Okay, a good start. He’s reacting.

“That’s not a challenge,” he continues, “It’s a fact.”

Stiles still doesn’t say anything.

“Wow. I’ve never heard you say nothing for longer than three seconds,” he teases.

“Get out,” say Stiles bluntly.

“I knew I’d get something out of you.”

“I said get out.”

“I don’t take orders from anyone.”

Stiles folds down the corner of his page and closes the book. He gets off the bed and stands straight, facing Derek. “Then why should I take orders from you, huh? I’m not your werewolf, you’re not my alpha. I literally don’t have to do anything you tell me to,” he snaps.

“You—” And for the first time, Stiles cuts off Derek before he can finish his sentence.

“Don’t wanna hear it. You’re going to stand there looking all cocky and smartass and you’re going to tell me that we can’t be in a relationship because of reasons that I’m not allowed to know since I’m too stupid to control my actions and you telling me would result in me doing something stupider than what I did yesterday and I’m just a ball of uncontainable hormones and you regret allowing me to live with you and you’re just going to make me feel a hundred percent shittier than I already do and I really, really, don’t want to hear it.” Stiles huffs out in a single breath. He crosses his arms and tucks his hands under his armpits.

“Actually,” says Derek, “I was going to do this…” Then he leans in and presses his lips against Stiles’ mouth.

*

Stiles stands still for a second, shocked, then he kisses him back. Derek pulls Stiles closer from the small of his back, and Stiles runs his hands through Derek’s hair. Derek leans on Stiles and he loses his balance, and they both fall onto his bed. Derek is all over Stiles, his hands running up and down, while Stiles is trying hard to keep up. He’s hot and experienced, and it makes Stiles ache for more. His head spins and spins as he tries to grasp the idea that Derek Hale is making out with him. Stiles has never been kissed before, let alone by a guy six years older than him, and it’s making him nervous and giddy and he’s so turned on right now. He moans loudly because Derek’s body weight is making it hard to breathe.

“Oh,” he whispers, and rolls over so they’re side by side. Stiles tries to catch his breath and slow down his racing heart.

“Why did you do that?” he asks, staring at the ceiling.

“Because,” answers Derek. “I wanted to.”

Stiles looks sideways at Derek. “Then why did you pretend you didn’t want to?”

For a few seconds, Derek is silent. Then he says, barely audible, “I didn’t think I could handle it. Another relationship. The last one destroyed my life. And I didn’t want to take another chance.”

Stiles watches him look at the ceiling. Then, slowly, he turns over so he’s on his side, not on his back. He looks down at Derek, into his eyes. “You,” he says quietly, “are a broken soul. But don’t worry, I’m going to put you back together.” Then he leans in for another round.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clean up day. Which also happens to be on the night of a full moon. Derek leaves to take care of his pack, a great mistake, he learns later.

Zac double clicks Safari on his Mac. He types into the search bar, “moon phases ” and clicks on the first link that comes up. He skips through the words until he gets to the images of the stages of the moon. On the article, it says the moon goes around the earth approximately every month. He looks at the stages: new moon, waxing crescent, first quarter, waxing gibbous, full moon, waning gibbous, last quarter, waning crescent and then new moon again. Then he types in “moon phases August 2012” and looks at the calendar of the moon phases. It says that the full moon is on August 1st. Today. Well, he knows what he’s doing tonight.

Derek opens the door to his room without knocking. “Hey,” he says, peering his head in. Zac puts his finger to his lips and motions at a sleeping Sophia. “It’s cleaning day tomorrow,” whispers Derek, loudly. Zac frowns and waves him away, but Derek stays at the door. “Stiles will be mowing the lawn outside, then vacuuming all the carpets. Kitchen and living room duty is on me, and all the bathrooms are yours.” Derek grins and adds, “Oh, and if you don’t help out, you’re buying your own food from now on.” Then he leaves.

*

Stiles wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and stops the lawnmower. He’s only halfway through the front yard and already dying of the Californian summer heat. Then he has to mow the back yard too, and vacuum all the carpets…he sighs. Then he leaves the lawnmower in the middle of the lawn and goes inside.

“Derek,” he calls out. “I need a drink.” Derek and Stiles are finally on speaking terms again (since last night). He trudges into the kitchen and is immediately hit by an overwhelming smell of bleach. “Oh my God, what is that smell?”

Derek turns around and holds up a blue spray bottle. “Disinfectant. For countertops.” Stiles makes a point of holding his nose as he opens the fridge. Derek rolls his eyes and asks “are you done the front yard?”

Stiles grabs himself a glass from the cupboard and pours ice-cold lemonade into it. Then he grabs one for Derek and does the same thing. “Not exactly,” he says sheepishly.

“Not exactly? Stiles, it’s been,” Derek looks at the time, “almost half an hour and you’re still not even done the front yard?”

“It’s hot!” he proclaims.

Derek rolls his eyes and rinses his hands in the kitchen sink.

“C’mon dude, you’re working in an air conditioned house and I’m dying of heat stroke,” says Stiles.

Derek turns around to give him an ‘I am not amused’ look before saying, “Wash my car, while you’re at it.”

“What? No way!” shouts Stiles. “Do it yourself!” Stiles drains his lemonade and just as he’s about to turn to leave, Derek grabs him by the arm.

“I’ll pay you,” he whispers into his ear. OH GOD. OH GOD because Stiles knows exactly what kind of paying he means.

Stiles runs outside without finishing his glass of lemonade, before Derek changes his mind.

 

The rest of the afternoon goes by fast, and it’s nearly dusk when Derek comes thumping down the stairs.

“I’m going out,” he says, slipping on his leather jacket.

“Where to?” asks Zac, his arm around his daughter.

“Don’t worry about it,” replies Derek, and Zac shrugs and goes back to watching TV.

Stiles’ phone buzzes in his pocket and he takes it out and reads the message from Derek: Do NOT let him leave.

He looks up just as Derek’s about to walk away and catches his eye, nodding. Derek’s mouth is in a tight line, presumably from worrying about Zac and Sophia.  
It’s up to you, Stiles, he seems to say. Let them go out and you’re all dead meat.

It shouldn’t be a problem, he thinks.

*

When Derek arrives at the underground subway stop, Isaac, Erica and Boyd are already there. As he approaches them, he takes in his surrounds in great detail, deciding who to chain up where.

Derek kneels down to lift up the lid of a wooden trunk. He pulls out a huge pile of chains. Thin chains, thick chains. Rusted chains, new chains. Chains with locks, chains with spikes.

“This is getting a little old, Derek,” says Erica.

“Maybe if you learned to control yourselves during the full moon as quickly as Scott did, I wouldn’t have to keep doing this,” he retorts.

*

“So,” says Zac. “Where exactly did Derek go?”

“I don’t know,” shrugs Stiles. “Why does it matter?”

Zac eyes him and he knows he’s lying. “Just wondering. He never seems to tell me anything.”

“Yeah well, join the club,” says Stiles, and he gets up to insert a DVD into the DVD player for the night.

“How’s it going for you guys, by the way?” he prods.

Stiles shrugs but Zac can see he’s trying to hide a silly grin. “It’s all right I guess,” and he turns his back, but not before Zac catches a glimpse of red on his face.

*

The moonlight shines in through the big glass door leading out to the backyard from the living room. Stiles knows that it’s happening right now, three werewolves are experiencing their third full moon, and he’s so glad he’s not Derek. He remembers when Scott had just turned, and Stiles had to chain him to the heater to keep him from killing someone or worse, him. He shudders at the memory and considers calling Derek, just to make sure he’s okay, but he decides against it because Derek is too busy to be distracted by a check-up phone call. Stiles is restless and unfocused, unlike Zac and Sophia, paying full attention to Toy Story 2.

“Going to the bathroom,” he mumbles, and gets off the couch.

Stiles about to enter the bathroom when he hears a low growl coming from the general direction of the hallway leading to the garage and laundry room. He pauses, straining to hear it again, praying it was only his imagination. Woody shouts something to Jesse from the TV and it’s too loud for Stiles to hear another growl, so he trots down the hallway and rests his ear on the door to the garage.

Grr.

There it was again. Real, definitely real. His heart starts beating faster and he steps away from the door, quickly. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want to see it, mostly because he’s absolutely sure he’s heard that noise before, coming from Derek.

All of a sudden, the door bursts open and Stiles screams loudly. Not one, not two, but three werewolves run in, bashing against the doorframe and knocking down everything in their way. One has red eyes. One has blue eyes. And one has yellow eyes.

*

Zac had just watched the fake Buzz come out of the air duct when he heard Stiles scream. He jumps up immediately and startles Sophia, snapping her out of her daze.

“Stiles?” he calls out, running towards the sound.

He came to a stop when he saw them. Three huge…creature things. One was completely covered in black fur and about eight feet tall, with piercing red eyes. The other two were a little bit shorter, with distinctive blue and yellow eyes. Zac tried to scream but it caught in his throat and he backed up.

“SOPHIA!” he managed to yell, “HIDE!” Stiles was on the floor, pinned against the wall while the black creature examined him up close, then growled in his face. The other two stood around him menacingly, almost as if they were…a pack.

“Hey!” he shouted. Then he grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a glass vase, and threw it at the creature. It smashed against his face and this was the perfect time for Stiles to run to Zac and join him.

“Bad idea, very bad idea,” he said, backing up. The creature shook the glass out of its fur and together, the three of them came closer, slowly.

“Run,” says Stiles. They turn around and book it to the living room, where Zac grabbed Sophia by the waist and Stiles unlocks the door leading outside.

But the creatures were quicker. In less than a second, they were in between them, separating Stiles from Zac, and Zac from the door.

“Stiles! Run! Get out! Get Derek!” he shouts.

“Derek won’t help! I can’t just leave you!”

One of the smaller creatures stepped forward and Sophia screams so loudly into his ear that he almost goes deaf. Zac froze, trying to figure out the species. It had an almost human face with blue eyes and a lot of hair accompanied by a menacing pair of fangs. It took another step forward and pinned Zac onto the floor, with his back against the couch and Sophia beside him. She screams again, and this time he does too because the thing picks her up swiftly and throws her across the room, smashing right into the TV.

“NOOOO!” he screamed, and ran at the creature.

“ZAC!” He hears Stiles’ voice in the distance but doesn’t answer. Zac charges at the animal planning on killing it. He tries to throw a punch but the animal grabs his wrist in midair and twists it backwards. Zac roars in pain and collapses to the ground, a couple of feet away from Sophia. She doesn’t move. He holds his wrist in his good hand and standing up, runs at the animal again.

The animal dodges his punches, again and again and throws Zac to the ground repeatedly. When he’d dropped to the floor and was too injured to get back up, he saw the creature step towards Sophia’s still body.

No! He tries to shout, but all that came out was a gurgle of blood. He spat it out and then, before he could do anything, Stiles charged at the animal, holding a ten inch bread knife. He stabs it into it’s back and it roared in pain, arching back. One of the other creature rips the knife out of its partner’s back and hands it to the smallest of the three. Then it picks up Stiles by the collar of his shirt and throws him behind him aggressively. Zac tries to scream again, but still nothing came out and his head pounded and pounded and OH MY , NO!

The smallest animal that had taken the knife stands over Sophia, positioning her in between his legs. She lies on her back, face up, eyes closed. Blood trickls from her forehead.

“NOOO!” he finally screams, but the animal didn’t pay attention to him.

Then he, it, the creature, brought the blade straight down with a lot of pressure…straight into where Sophia’s heart would be located.

Zac could feel tears coming to his eyes as he lay on the floor, paralyzed, unable to do anything, to speak, to shout, to move, watching the creature run away into the night with the other two. A wimper from somewhere behind him that was obviously Stiles was the last thing he heard before he passed out.

*

Derek drove through Beacon Hills, on his way to Scott’s to check up on him. Ever since his mother found out about lycanthropy, she’d make sure to stay in the hospital on the nights of a full moon. Which means he’d be alone, and that could be a good thing or a bad thing depending on the situation. Derek pulls up into his driveway and heads inside the unlocked house.

“Scott?” he calls out.

Scott comes running down the stairs, perfectly human. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I just came to check up on you,” he answers.

“Oh, well I’m fine. Where’s your pack?”

“At the subway station, I locked them up.”

“Are you sure they’re going to stay locked up?” asks Scott, warily.

“Hope so,” Derek purses his lips.

All of a sudden, a sound echoes in the distance and both of them freeze.

It isn’t just any sound, it’s the victory roar of an alpha werewolf.

*

Stiles and Zac haul Sophia’s lifeless body into his car. Zac struggles to keep himself steady and see through the tears. He allows Stiles to drive the car since he’s too dazed to keep his eyes open, much less drive. Stiles drives faster than he knew he could go, almost hitting multiple people on the way to the hospital. When they arrive, they pull into the emergency section of the hospital and paramedics drag her limp body onto a stretcher and carry her inside.

They weren’t allowed to go in the room, so Zac drags two chairs from the lobby of the ICU and props them right outside Sophia’s door. He put his head in his bloody hands and tried to slow his heartbeat.

“I texted Derek,” Stiles manages to say.

“Who the hell gives a shit about Derek, call the cops. Derek isn’t going to do anything,” snaps Zac.

“Trust me, Derek knows more about this than the cops ever will,” answers Stiles.

“So this is his doing?”

“No, not exactly.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘not exactly’?” Zac sits up and looks Stiles right in the eyes.

“I’ll tell you everything when he gets here, okay?” Stiles promises.

“Fuck you both,” was his answer.

He tries to look on the positive side but he knew there was nothing the paramedics could do to bring her back. She is gone, she’d been stabbed right in the heart, right in front of his eyes, though he’d refused to admit it as he’d carried her floppy body into his car. Sophia, his only daughter, was gone only after a few weeks of living with him, and it was all because of that cocky prick Derek and his idiot of a boyfriend. Is this what happens on a full moon? Huge, weird creature things appear in your house and kill your only daughter? Your four year old daughter? Zac knew he’d have to give his statement about what happened because the cops would get involved whether he wanted them to or not, and he wasn’t going to lie. He saw what he saw, and he wanted whatever it was that killed her to be behind bars for the rest of its life. Or better yet, dead.

Zac lost it then, letting his tears run and sobbing loudly with heaving sighs in between, right outside the room where his daughter’s dead body lay in Beacon Hills hospital. There was no one else in the hallway besides Stiles, who sat there awkwardly and did nothing. All he wanted to know was what the hell happened and why it happened, and he knew that they only person who was going to give him answers was the same person he wanted to strangle to death because this was all his fault, all his stupid fault for allowing him to come live with him when he had no where else to go.

The elevator in front of him dings, and Zac wipes his eyes with his bloody shirt and sniffs back his runny nose. He looks up, and when the doors open, out steps Derek Hale with a younger looking teenage boy at his side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zac and Derek's relationship is tested when Derek learns that he's caused yet another death.

Derek had driven to the hospital the instant he read the text from Stiles, no question asked. The alpha roar was enough to get him and Scott racing to the hospital at 100 miles an hour. He didn’t even bother parking his car straight which was bound to get him a ticket. They both just ran into the building, not saying anything. They ended up on the ICU floor, and as they stepped out of the elevator, Derek saw Zac sitting on a chair beside Stiles, by the first door at the start of the hallway.

Derek was about to ask what happened, but before he knew what was happening, Zac had punched him in the jaw. He was pretty startled since his werewolf powers hadn’t reacted as quickly as they normally would’ve. Derek stumbled and bent over. Zac didn’t stop, he punched him again, in the lip, in the stomach, in the head. Derek regained control but he allowed himself to be hit because he know that somehow, this was his fault. It was his fault for not telling Zac and not allowing him to protect himself. He deserved it. Finally, Stiles pulls Zac away and Scott pulls Derek away and the two men stand facing each other.

Derek saw that Zac was holding his left wrist in his right hand, and assumed it was sprained. He looked up at him with blood trickling down his chin and a growing bruise on his jaw that would fade as quickly as it’s growning.

“Zac…” he began.

“Save it,” he snapped. “There’s nothing you can do now.”

“Where’s Sophia? What happened?”

Zac looked down and then looked up again, meeting his eyes. Derek could see that he was trying not to cry.

Zac bit his lip and stuttered out, “She’s gone.”

What? No.

“What do you mean…gone?”

“I mean dead, you asshole,” snaps Zac. He rests his head on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles wraps an arm around him, avoiding Derek’s gaze. Zac doesn’t acknowledge Scott or ask who he is.

Derek froze. “Dead?”

Zac doesn’t nod, he just looks down still biting his lip.

“How?”

Zac shrugs and lifts his head. “Why don’t you tell me, huh? Why don’t you tell me who those freaking creatures that obviously walked out of a nightmare are, and why the hell they killed my daughter? Why don’t you tell me why someone attacked Stiles on the first night we moved into your house? Why don’t you tell me why the fucking bruises on your face are fading and why don’t you tell me who this kid is” he points at Scott, “and what he’s doing here?”

Zac is yelling by now, and some nurses walking by lookover. Derek touches a hand to his face and sure enough, the blood and bruises are gone. He looks down at the tiled floor without a reply. Derek can feel Zac nodding, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer.

“All right well, if you’re not going to tell me, get the hell out of my face because I might kill you. My daughter is dead and it’s your fault. Your fault!” He stabs his finger at Derek’s chest.

Derek swallows the lump in his throat. He is now responsible for yet another death. “Look, Zac, I’ll tell you everything. But not here. We have to—”

Zac cut him off. “Tell me now or I swear I’ll kill everyone you love, Derek.”

Stiles pipes up. “That won’t work, Derek doesn’t love anyone.”

They all look at him in silence until Zac snaps, “He loves you, you idiot.”

Stiles doesn’t speak again.

“Never mind, just leave. I don’t want to hear you talk.”

Derek pauses. “They’re werewolves,” he whispers.

Zac looks up at him in disbelief. “What?”

“Werewolves, lycanthropy. I don’t know what they’re doing here or who they are.”

Zac laughs, and the sound is awkwardly echoed off the walls of the silent hall. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” Stiles, Scott and Derek answer together.

Zac looks at each of them for a few seconds before asking Scott, “Who are you?”

“Scott,” he answers. “I’m Stiles’ best friend.”

Zac makes a noise of disgust and turning to Stiles, he asks him, “Why didn’t you tell me you had another best friend?” When Stiles doesn’t answer, he asks “Is he a werewolf too?” to no one in particular.

Scott nods. “Derek was the one who trained me, physically and mentally, and Stilse was the one who figured it out.”

“I didn’t ask for your life story,” Zac answers.

Scott nods solemnly.

“So is this what you do, Derek? Make monsters out of people and train them how to kill humans?”

“I’m not the one who turned Scott into a werewolf,” answers Derek.

“Right. I believe you.”

Derek sighs and shakes his head. “You know what, I’m done.” He turns away and presses the down button for the elevator.

“You’re not going anywhere,” shouts Zac, grabbing him by the arm.

It takes all of Derek’s willpower not to bring out the fangs and scare him off so for the first time in his life, Derek takes an order from someone else. He stays put.

“You know,” starts Zac. “It amazes me how you don’t even care. Sophia is dead, Derek. DEAD. And you’re just standing there and telling me you didn’t do it! How the hell am I supposed to believe you? You don’t just get over your daughter’s death in one hour! You’re a…” he wipes his eyes, “an asshole. I hate you.”

Derek usually doesn’t let the small comments bother him, but this was not a small comment. He says nothing.

“You guys should all just leave. I’ll tell the cops whatever, feed them a bunch of shit. You can live happily ever after together, turning into werewolves on nights of a full moon and killing innocent people. I don’t care, I just don’t want to live with you anymore, okay? I don’t want to live with the person who killed my daughter. What I want to do is put you behind bars for the rest of your life, but I’m not the kind of person who does that to my best friend. Or you know, someone who I thought I could call my best friend because I trusted him. So when I get home, I’m packing up my things and I’m walking out of your life. I never, ever want to see you again.”

The lump in his throat has grown bigger and Derek fights hard to keep his emotions under control. Zac, however, does not, and he shakes his head faster and walks back to the chairs by the door. Scott and Stiles walk back to the elevator and with a ding the doors open, but instead of stepping into it with them, Derek walks away from it.

He stands in front of Zac, who’s sitting on the chair with his face in his hands and trying to make the shaking of his shoulders less noticeable.

“I just want to know what happened,” says Derek. Zac doesn’t budge. “Please Zac. Please. I’m sorry that Sophia is dead. I’m sorry. But I never killed her, I swear to you. And I will kill whoever it is that did this. I just need to find them first. I need you to tell me what happened, so I can tell you why.”

Zac looks up. “Get the fuck away from me,” he says.

They leave the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter was mostly Zac and Derek, although it is a Sterek fic. Just be patient, more is to come... :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of reminiscing.

Stiles wakes up with his head on Derek’s shoulder. Slowly, he gets up and rubs the sleep of his eyes. He tiptoes into Zac’s room and isn’t surprised when he finds his bed empty.

He slips his hands into his pockets and looks around the room. His stuff is still there, which means Zac spent the night at the hospital and will be back to pick up his things.

“Looking for something?”

Stiles spins around and Zac stands in the doorway, bags under his eyes from no sleep.

“No I just—” Stiles takes a deep breath, “I just wanted to know if you were still here,” he says.

Zac closes the distance between them and throws his arms around Stiles tightly.

“I’m sorry,” says Stiles. It’s the only thing he can think of to say because long-gone is the funny, sarcastic Stiles who can lighten up a mood even as dark as this one.

“It’s not your fault,” he replies quietly.

“Or Derek’s,” adds Stiles.

“I know.”

They pull apart and Zac looks at his friend with sad eyes. “Tell him I’m sorry, okay? And take care of yourself.” He pats Stiles on the shoulder, dismissing him.

When Stiles leaves, Zac crawls into his bed and under the covers. He pulls them over his head, letting his breaths warm up the air. He takes out his phone and clicks on the pictures app.

He goes through his pictures, specifically those of him and Serena. Smiling. Laughing. Kissing. Holding hands. Sleeping. Back when everything was okay, back when they’d just met in senior year. The pictures were from his old phone, but he’d transferred them to this one when it got too old.

Next comes the albums of Serena pregnant. Four months. Six months. Seven months. Then prom, with her big tummy bulging underneath her gorgeous dress. (She didn’t mind.) Later, the first picture he’d ever taken of Sophia. She was 6 pounds, a small baby with a full head of brown hair and wrinkled red skin.

Her first birthday. Moving into the apartment.

The last picture they’d ever taken together.

Zac bites his lip as a tear runs down his face and throws the covers off to get a breath of fresh air. He sniffs and sits up, leaning against the headboard of his bed.

He scrolls through his contact list until he comes upon Serena’s name. And then he taps the green phone button.

She answers after four rings. “Hello?”

“Serena, hey. It’s Zac,” he says.

“Oh hi! Sorry, I’ve been totally caught up in work and I forgot to call to check up on you so how are you doing?” she says cheerfully.

“Um,” Zac blurts it out before he loses his confidence, “Sophia is dead. She got stabbed.”

The other end of the line is silent for what seems like eternity before she says, “What?”

*

Derek leaves the house as soon as he wakes up, partly because he needs time to think and partly because he doesn’t want to be there when Zac leaves. He doesn’t have a specific destination in mind so he surprises himself when he pulls up to Stiles’ house. He steps out of his car and walks up the front steps.

Derek puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket as he waits for the door to open. When it does, Stiles’ dad is standing there, wearing a wife beater and sweat pants, with a three day beard on his face and a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“What do you want?” he scruffs.

Derek has never seen Mr. Stilinski like this. He’d always been wearing a sheriff’s outfit, complete with the gold star badge and a gun on his hip. He drove a cop car and always had a serious but kind look on his face, when he wasn’t lecturing Stiles. But after he’d lost his job, everything had gone downhill from there. Derek figured he was probably living on retirement savings or, if he was lucky, unemployment insurance. Clearly it wasn’t enough money, due to the current state of his home and, well…himself.

“Mr. Stilinski,” says Derek, extending his hand.  
“Derek,” he answers, recognition registering on his face. He takes his hand and shakes it. “What are you doing here? Where’s Stiles?”

Mr. Stilinski knew that Stiles has been living with Derek for about two weeks now, and Derek knew that he never once called Stiles to check up on him.

“He’s fine, he’s at home right now. Can I come in?” asks Derek, cautious.

Mr. Stilinski’s lifestyle might’ve changed but his kind personality hasn’t. He opens the door wider and Derek steps in.

The ex-sheriff pours him a glass of wine and Derek accepts it without a second thought. They sit on the couches in the living room and Derek looks around Stiles’ house for the first time. A tv is mounted on top of the fireplace and plastered all over the walls are pictures. There are pictures of Stiles alone, pictures of Stiles and Scott, pictures of Stiles on rollercoaster rides and pictures of Stiles on first days of school. A wave of nostalgia hits him suddenly and Derek is overwhelmed with the feeling of home and longing for his own family.

He suddenly know what he has to do, and abruptly stands up.

“Umm, Mr. Stilinski I’m sorry but I’ve just realized there’s something important I really have to do. I’m sorry. I’ll come by another time, and maybe bring Stiles along while I’m at it,” he says.

Mr. Stilinski looks confused but doesn’t ask questions as Derek leaves in a hurry.

*

Stiles is watching Family Guy when the door to the house bangs open.

“Oh my God!” shouts Stiles, sitting up quickly. He runs to the door and is relieved to find it’s only Derek standing in the foyer, out of breath.

“What happened to you? Did you run all the way over here?” he asks.

“Where’s Zac? Did he leave?” Derek replies.

“No, he’s upstairs but—”

Derek runs upstairs before Stiles finishes his sentence.

“This can’t be good,” he says to himself, and follows him upstairs.

*

Zac had just hung up with his mom after telling her everything that happened (without giving away anything about werewolves) when Derek walks into his room.

Zac stands up quickly and barks, “What do you want?”

Derek doesn’t answer him, he just takes a few steps closer and with every step he takes forward, Zac takes one backward.

“I’m sorry,” says Derek.

“You already apologized Derek, I don’t need to hear it again.” Stiles’ face peers in from the doorframe and watches the scene unfold.

“No,” says Derek. “You do need to hear it again. I don’t want you to leave because of me, because I hurt you. Everyone leaves because of me. And I don’t want to have to keep living with this overwhelming guilt inside of me, eating at me slowly day by day until there’s nothing left but a cold, hard shell of pure bitchiness.”

Zac doesn’t answer so Derek continues. “I pushed him away. Stiles. He liked me and I knew it, and I liked him back. But I pushed him away because the thought of never having him was less painful than the thought of losing him. And when I finally let him near me other people hurt him, and I’m still not quite sure who they are. I can’t just keep letting people go because I hurt them, Zac. My family’s dead and it’s my fault—”

“It’s not—” Zac starts, but Derek raises his hand.

“Let me finish before I lose my courage to say this, okay. It’s been a little over ten years and I’m still not over it. And if I let you go that’d not only be adding you to the list, it’d be adding Sophia too. I’m sorry Zac. Please don’t go.”

And then, as if that wasn’t enough of a shock, Derek’s face squishes up in sadness and he’s trying so hard to fight the tears, trying so hard, that Zac just loses it and flies to his side.

Derek tries to push him away but Zac refuses to let go. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay to cry. Sometimes we all have to cry.”

And Zac holds Derek as his tears flow out.

*

Stiles lies on his own bed for the first time in weeks, thinking about the conversation he overheard between Derek and Zac this morning.

He’d slipped away when he’d heard too much, but he smiles vaguely as “He liked me and I knew it, and I liked him back” replayed over and over again in his head. Derek was just two doors down, probably sitting on his bed with a huge book in front of him, completely engrossed in the pages. He didn’t like to be disturbed while he was reading, but Stiles knew he wouldn’t mind a little quality time.

He was right, Derek is reading a book and Stiles can’t tell what it is or who it’s by, only that it’s about half a million pages thick. He doesn’t look up when Stiles comes in so Stiles just invites himself into his bed and crawls under the covers.

“What are you reading?” he asks, breaking the silence.

Derek folds down the corner of his page and closes his book then puts it on the night stand. “Nothing important, what are you doing?”

Stiles snuggles his head against Derek’s shoulder and closes his eyes. “Snuggling,” he answers adorably.

Derek makes a sound like a scoff but Stiles can tell he’s secretly happy, and he’s surprised when Derek slips his arms around him.

“Tell me a story, Derek,” says Stiles.

“I don’t know any stories, Stiles,” he replies.

“You were just reading one.”

“Yeah but it won’t interest you.”

“Anything that comes out of your mouth interests me.” Stiles sits up, realizing what he just said. “Oh shit, I didn’t—”

“Yeah you did.”

“No I didn’t! I totally didn’t mean it like that,” cries Stiles.

“Are you sure?” asks Derek quietly. “My mouth can do pretty amazing things.”

Stiles’ heart jumps into his throat. He looks at Derek and holds his gaze for a while and with a deep breath he says, “Show me.”

“Will do,” answers Derek, pressing his lips against Stiles’.

*  
Derek doesn’t know what Stiles is thinking, but he does know how he’s feeling. The boy’s heart beats faster than it’s ever beaten before and Derek slips his tongue into Stiles’ mouth, rolling it around a couple of times. Stiles whimpers and presses his hips into Derek’s, which feels…quite good. It’s been a long time since someone’s done that. Derek brings his hand around Stiles’ back and aggressively shoves it under his shirt, then slowly slides it up. Stiles’ skin is soft and warm, unlike Derek’s, hard and tight. He rolls on top of him and Stiles moans this time.

“Should I continue?” whispers Derek.

“Oh hell, is that even a question,” replies Stiles, out of breath.

“Just making sure.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A funeral. Then the pack hangs out together for the first time in the summer. And after, the beginning of a long talk.

Derek walks down the stairs lightly, careful not to wake Stiles. He enters the kitchen and a bright yellow sticky note on the counter catches his attention.

I left a while ago. Already had breakfast, no need to make me one. Will be back with the fam and then we’ll head to the cemetery for Soph’s funeral. Be ready by 11:45 at least. –Zac

Derek takes out a pan from the cupboard and sets it on the stove, then grabs two eggs and butter from the fridge. He hears Stiles saunter down the stairs, his footsteps heavy. Stiles slips his arms around his waist and nuzzles his head on Derek’s back, whispering “good morning.”

“You didn’t sleep for long,” answers Derek.

“I heard you get out of bed,” says Stiles, leaning on the counter. He wears a t-shirt but no pajama pants and Derek has to refrain from smiling.

“That’s never stopped you before, you always sleep in.” Derek cracks the eggs and watches them sizzle as they connect with the hot frying pan.

“Yeah well, me and you have to get ready for Sophia’s funeral, remember?”

“You and I,” corrects Derek.

“All right, Mr. Smartywolf. Do you need help with anything?”

Derek rolls his eyes at the name and replies “just grab two plates, two glasses and two forks, Zac’s already gone.”

“Where’d he go?” asks Stiles, peeling himself off the counter.

“Don’t know.” Derek plops an egg into each plate that Stiles set out and sprinkles salt and pepper on them. “Let’s just eat.”

But before they can eat, the doorbell rings. Stiles looks at Derek and Derek looks at Stiles.

“I’ll get it,” says Derek, wiping his hands on his shirt as he heads to the door. Derek is in his underwear, so he hopes that whoever it is will be uncomfortable enough to leave quickly.

He opens the door and there stands Scott, Allison, Jackson, Lydia, Erica, Boyd and Isaac.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asks, surprised.

“Great to see you too,” answers Jackson. He pushes past Derek and the rest of them pile into the house.

“Nice place,” says Allison, and Derek mutters a thanks. He slips upstairs before anyone can say anything about seeing him without any pants on.

When he comes back down, what looks like a family reunion is taking place. Allison and Isaac are setting the dinner table that no one ever eats on and Stiles and Scott prepare the omelettes. Lydia is blending bananas in the blender for a milkshake and Jackson, to Derek’s surprise, is loading yesterday’s dishes into the dishwasher. Boyd and Erica are the only ones too busy talking to each other to do anything else.

“So,” starts Derek, and suddenly the kitchen quiets. “What brings you guys here?”

“I told them about Zac,” Scott pipes up. “They came for moral support.”

Derek nods. “Let’s just hope this moral support doesn’t overwhelm him.”

“Lighten up,” Lydia says, hitting him on the shoulder.

“We’re going to a funeral, there’s not much to be happy about,” he answers.

“Well, breakfast is ready. You can be happy about that,” says Stiles with a grin.

Derek sighs.

*

Derek stands in front of Stiles with black pants, a white button up shirt, a red tie and a matching black blazer. His hair stands on a slant at the tips, and the rest of it is combed down the middle. His eyelashes are thick and black, making his grey eyes stand out more.

“Well?” he asks.

He looks good, really good, actually. “Perfect,” answers Stiles. “What about me?”

Instead of answering, Derek smashes his lips to Stiles’ mouth. They kiss for a minute, and Stiles is so glad that Derek shaved today because his scruffy beard gives him a rash that takes forever to stop itching and can be quite noticeable.

Derek pushes his tongue inside of Stiles’ mouth and runs it over his row of top teeth. Stiles’ heart drops to his stomach and he’s thankful that Derek is holding him, otherwise he would’ve crumpled to the floor. He moves his hands quickly, first up Stiles’ back, then around to the front, and then to the back again and through his hair, which has gotten quite long now.

I need a haircut, he thinks, and then snaps back to attention as Derek’s hands move to the buckle of his belt.

Stiles wants to but he doesn’t want to. They’re going to a funeral, for God’s sake, they can’t do this now.

But oh God, Derek is so good at this.

No! Stop! His smart side yells at him.

He needs to distract Derek. So he lifts his limp arms from his sides and, surged with a burst of adrenaline, pulls Derek’s shirt out from the back and runs his hands up his muscular back. Derek presses into him and Stiles slips his hands out of Derek’s shirt and runs it through his hair. He gets jel all over his hands while he moves them in random, wild motions. Derek takes Stiles’ jaw in his hands and kisses him greedily, aching for more. Every bit of sanity in Stiles disappears and his bones turn to jello.

Derek pulls away slowly, breathing heavily. Stiles tries to gulp in fresh air but it feels like he’s drowning, like he needs all the air he can get before going under again. They stand there, looking into each other’s eyes, gasping for breath, their hair and clothes messy and disturbed. Derek doesn’t smile so neither does Stiles, but he’s looking at him with an expression he’s never seen before. His eyes are on Stiles but his mind is far, far away. Stiles waits patiently for him to say something, anything, because the silence is too loud and the moment feels like infinity.

“That’s the Stiles I fell for,” whispers Derek finally, so quietly Stiles has to strain to hear him.

In that split second, he realizes what it is. He realizes what the expression on Derek’s face means.

“Am I interrupting something?”

They both snap their heads to the sound of Erica’s voice. Stiles didn’t even hear her open the door to Derek’s room. Derek steps away quickly, smoothing down his hair and tucking in his shirt.

Erica rolls her eyes. “Please,” she says, annoyed, “We all know you were making out. It’s about time. And it’s kinda cute, actually.” Stiles blushes, Derek doesn’t break a sweat.

“Shut up,” orders Derek.

Erica crosses her arms. “Scott said he doesn’t need a ride, he’s going with Allison.”

Scott. SCOTT! Stiles holds in a smile because he’s grasped the fact that his relationship with Derek never would’ve happened if Scott hadn’t been bitten by Peter Hale, Derek’s uncle. So actually, he kind of owes him a thank you.

“Fine, whatever. It’s 11:45, where’s Zac?”

“Right here,” he says, coming up from behind Erica.

“You introduced yourself?” Derek asks Erica, and she nods slyly.

Zac’s hair is wet from his shower and combed over on one side. He wears a suit similar to both of theirs but his tie is also black. He has on no accessories except for a simple watch. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” replies Derek.

“Then let’s go.”

*

They pull up to the church in Stiles’ Jeep, Derek riding shotgun, Stiles driving and the pack in the backseat minus Jackson and Lydia, who took the Porsche. Zac left on his own to pick up his mom and brother from their house, but he makes it back in record time. The five of them pile out of the car and silently head to the Mercedes, where Zac and his family stand.

Zac’s mom is a tall woman, approximately 5’8, with dark hair in a bun and brown eyes. She looks nothing like her son, which would mean that Zac’s dad must’ve had all the defining features. His younger brother, Nick, is an exact replica of Zac. His hair is dark and straight, jelled up at the tips. His eyes are piercing blue and in the bright light of the midday sun, they appear almost fluorescent. He wears a black suit like the rest of the males, and stands shoulder to shoulder with Zac. If it weren’t for the diamond stud in his left ear, you would not be able to tell them apart.

“Derek, Stiles, Erica, Isaac and Boyd, this is my mom, Nancy. And my brother, Nick,” says Zac.

They exchange brief hellos and then enter the church. Zac told them that his family is not religious, but they decided to have her funeral at a church anyway.

The church is empty except for the first couple of rows. Derek doesn’t remember the last time he stepped inside a church, so he takes a minute to admire the stained glass windows and tall, looming ceiling. At the front is a stage with a pew and a perfect white cross, unlike the broken one on the top of the building.

Derek sits down and the four of them follow, occupying the remaining seats of the front row. Zac and his family huddle at the front and greet the reminiscing guests. Jackson and Lydia join them shortly after Allison and Scott do. They all sit in a row, silent.

*

Zac lets out an exasperated sigh and looks around. The church is not even half full, which worries him. What if people don’t show up? What if no one cares that his daughter died?

“Hey, Zac,” says a voice.

Zac looks down. A petite brunette girl with light brown eyes stares up at him. She looks about the same age as him, but her height affects his estimation.

“Hi?” he says tentatively. He doesn’t recognize her.

“I’m Amanda,” she says, offering her hand. He takes it and nods.

“Do I know you?” It came out harsher than he meant it.

“I used to work with Serena. She informed me of you and occasionally I would babysit Sophia for her.

She requested that I come to the funeral on her behalf, since her location is inconvenient and she could not make it, which upset her quite a lot,” pipes Amanda. Her vocabulary is advanced and Zac has to struggle to keep up.

“She told me she couldn’t make it,” he says, recalling how angry then heartbroken she’d gotten. “But she never said anything about sending someone on her behalf.”

“I’m sorry about your loss. My condolences go out to you and your family,” she says, completely ignoring his comment.

“Thank you, but I don’t need anyone to pity me,” he snaps.

“Oh, but the poor child! How exactly did she come to her tragic end, you say?”

Amanda reminds him of Shakespeare because of her use of language and she’s beginning to annoy Zac. But as he thinks about the question, he realizes he doesn’t know how to answer her. After Sophia’s death, Zac talked to the police. What he’d told them had been completely made up. He’d said a person dressed as an animal had stabbed her but it was too dark for him to see anything but the silhouette, which wasn’t a complete lie. He also made up tidbits of details that were completely unbelieveable, because what was he supposed to do? Tell them pack of giant werewolves had attacked her? He believed Derek and knew that humans weren’t supposed to know about the supernatural kind, so that had added to the difficulty of his explanation. But they definitely wouldn’t have believed him even if he did tell them. So he did what he could and lied, and he knew there was no way the cops were ever going to find the culprit.

“Someone stabbed her,” he finally says.

“Oh, the poor child!” she cries again. But it sounds fake.

Zac turns his attention to the door of the church as it opens. Four men are carrying a big, wooden casket on their shoulders and a crowd of people follow them inside. They walk up the aisle and past Zac and Amanda, climbing onto the stairs. When they reach their destination, they set the casket down. Two of the guys start propping up pictures of Sophia and the other two lift the lid of the casket. Inside lies a pale, lifeless body, three feet long. Sophia’s eyes are closed and her hands are crossed over her stomach. A colourful bouquet of flowers sits underneath her hands, but it makes the scene even more depressing. She wears a simple white dress and socks with lace edges. Her shoes are black Mary Janes. Her once healthy, glowing hair is parted down the middle and lies colourless around her head.

Zac’s heart jumps into his throat and he struggles to breathe. He closes his eyes and counts to ten and when he opens them again, the pastor of the church stands in front of him.

“I am very sorry for your loss,” he whispers. He has greying hair and a light wispy beard, but other than that he looks young.

“It’s okay,” he chokes out.

“Listen, son. I know we should’ve brought her in before the people arrived, but we wanted to make her entrance special. Is that okay?”

Zac doesn’t want anyone to treat Sophia special because she lost her life at a young age, but he’s too upset so argue so he just nods. The pastor motions at him to take a seat and the funeral begins.

*

The pastor gives thanks to God and offers kind words of sympathy as an introduction. Stiles leans forward a bit to steal a glance at Zac but he can’t see him well from his spot in the middle of the row. He knows how he’s probably feeling though—like his heart has just been ripped from his chest. It was the same feeling he got when he attended his mother’s funeral a couple days after her death. He felt like his entire world had fallen apart and was crushing him to the ground. And now, years and years later, the feeling comes back to him. It’s not his mother’s funeral but the setting was certainly similar and that’s all it takes to bring back the fading layers of pain. Stiles feels himself choking up and sits back in his chair, swallowing hard. The words of the pastor jumble together as his mind starts to wander down a forgotten road. A tear nearly escapes his eye and Stiles shuts them both to avoid crying. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, but the agony is just too much. He’s going to cry, he knows it.

Suddenly, Stiles feels a hand sliding across his leg. He opens his eyes but doesn’t lift his head. Derek slides his hand into Stiles’ and intertwines their fingers together. His heartbeat steadies and he knows Derek can feel it too. Stiles half smiles and squeezes his hands tighter around Derek’s.

The funeral home workers take the coffin out of the church and everyone gathers around the grave. Zac takes out a piece of paper and clears his throat, beginning his speech.

“A couple years ago,” he starts, his voice loud and clear in the still afternoon wind, “I was a junior in high school, seventeen years of age. We’d just heard of rumours that there was going to be a new student joining us. We didn’t know if it was going to be a male or a female, but obviously the guys were wishing for a hot new girl while the girls were wishing for a hot new guy. Then one day, she showed up. Serena Williams was her name. Her parents were both from Spain but she was born and raised in California. I don’t know how it happened but—we fell in love, Serena and I,” Zac swallows before continuing, “and we dated for a year. Then she got pregnant. I was reluctant to have a child but Serena demanded we keep the baby. She demanded to go to prom too, even though her stomach was the size of a beachball.” Zac smiles down at the paper and Stiles swears he can hear the heart of every single person at the funeral snap in half. “I’m glad I never convinced her to give up the baby, because nine months later, we had a beautiful daughter we named Sophia Eaton. She was six pounds and a couple ounces, with a head full of hair and sky blue eyes that lit up the world. You never forget that feeling,” he pauses and shuts his eyes. Stiles watches silently as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down and takes in a sharp breath of air. “You never forget that feeling,” he repeats, “of holding your child for the first time. I had never felt happier before that moment. There was nothing I had experienced before that could compare to the rush of adrenaline I got when I held Sophia for the first time. It was like I was having a really good, really real, dream.” He takes a moment to look up and smile but his smile is faked, pained. His eyes are watery and his eyebrows are raised in the middle, like he’s about to burst into tears any minute. “She was a very picky eater,” he tells them, “and would only eat if Serena fed her. I watched her grow up for a while until I got too busy with work to pay much attention to her and Serena and I broke up. Looking back on that, I regret that I never fought for her. They say if you love someone, to let them go. If they come back to you, they were meant to be yours and if they don’t, they weren’t. Well that’s a lie. Serena did come back to me, but only to drop off Sophia and leave to Spain forever. If you love someone, fight for them. Because there isn’t a worse feeling that regretting wasting the time you could’ve spent with them.”

Stiles watches as Zac allows a tear to roll down his cheek and plop onto the paper. He shuts his eyes again and slowly crumples the paper in his fist. He bites his lip and breathes quickly. Nick comes up from behind him and whispers something in his ear. Zac shakes his head and regains his cool.

Meeting the eyes of the silent audience, he whispers, “I wish I’d tried harder to fight for her. For both of them, actually. But what’s done is done, right? And so now all I can do is let her go. Take it from me though, do not waste your time. You might never get tomorrow, so live for today. Look at Sophia, she was only four. That’s only 1460 days. 35040 hours. 2102400 minutes. Not long enough time to show someone how much you love them. So today, I stand at the grave of my daughter and tell her that she will always be in my heart, that I will always, always love her and remember her, and that I hope she rests in peace.” Zac’s voice cracks at the end of his sentence and he lowers his head for a minute, allowing his sadness to flow out in liquid form down his face. He tries to cry silently but every time he inhales it’s like a shriek, and so finally his brother pulls him back and his mom steps forward to give her speech.

After everyone is finished saying what tidbit of information they knew about Sophia, they each take a handful of dirt and throw it into the grave. The crowd wanders off and some people leave while others head over to talk to the Eaton family.

Stiles spots Scott and Allison sitting on a bench at the edge of the cemetery and he walks over to them.

“Hey,” says Stiles, plopping down next to them.

“I’ll leave you too alone,” says Allison, getting up to join Lydia.

“What a speech, huh?” says Stiles.

“Poor guy,” replies Scott.

“It’s crazy right?”

Scott nods.

“You know what else is crazy?”

Scott turns to him.

“This summer. It’s crazy. First my dad loses his job, then I move in with Derek, then this weird Argent attack thing, which by the way, seems totally unlikely. And now there’s a new werewolf pack in town who just killed a four year old girl. To think that a couple months ago we were planning to have a summer filled with road trips and lacrosse practices, seems like something out of a dream. You know?” Stiles stops and looks at Scott, who nods slowly.

“Hey look, we still got a couple of weeks left before school starts. Everyone’s going to be at the new house now because logically, Derek’s going to want his pack together. And your backyard is pretty big, right? We can fit in a couple of lacrosse games, me and you against Jackson and Isaac. We’ll see. But it’s going to be okay, okay?” Scott pats him on the back.

Stiles looks at him with admiration and, pulling him to his feet he says, “You’re my best friend ever and I love you.”

*

Zac, his brother and his mother are the last people left at the cemetery. The sun is starting to go down and the mid-August breeze sends a slight chill down his back.

The pack had left an hour ago and went back to the house, but Zac had stayed behind for some time alone.

Zac puts his hands in his pockets and squints into the sun. His dark hair, light eyes and black suit probably make him look very attractive while striking that casual pose, he thinks.

Woah, wait. Where did this newfound confidence come from? Zac hadn’t complimented himself since…well…since high school, really. Complimenting yourself makes you sound cocky, Serena would always tell him. He’d grin wildly and tell her that a man can love himself as equally as he loves a woman.

Thinking of Serena makes Zac sad, but he really can’t feel anymore sadness than what’s already there, so he ends up smiling slightly instead.

“What’s funny?” asks Nick, walking towards in him in between the graves.

“Just thinking,” he replies, turning to face him.

Nick nods. “Okay well, you need anything? Mom and I are heading home,” he tells him.

“Oh, okay,” replies Zac. “No, I don’t need anything. Thanks for coming, Nick. Thanks.” He lowers his gaze.

“No problem man,” Nick slaps him on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will. Take care of mom, okay? Help her out Nick, be nice to her. And if you guys need anything just call me. Don’t ever think that you’ll be annoying me. I love you guys both, so take care of her and take care of yourself,” he commands.

“I will,” promises Nick.

His mom comes up from behind Nick. “Nick? Are we ready?”

“Yeah,” says Nick, throwing his arm around her shoulder. She smiles at Zac and he returns the small favour.

“Need anything sweetie?” she asks, coming up to him and straightening his tie.

“I’m good, thanks mom.”

She doesn’t have to look up at him since her heels make her taller than she already is. “I love you honey,” she whispers, pressing a long kiss to his forehead.

Zac throws her arms around her and motions for Nick to join in the group hug.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, holding on to the only two members of his family he has left.

 

On his ride home, Zac turns on the radio and keeps it at a low volume. He drives his Mercedes with the windows rolled down and his sunglasses on his face. To any other person on the road he probably looks like a very important man coming home from work, and Zac chuckles at the thought. He hangs his hand out the window and taps his fingers along to the beat of the music, thinking.

He thinks about his mother and how her parents both died before they had any other kids. He thinks about his father and how he left a long, long time ago and who knows if he’s dead or alive now. He thinks about his sister and the car accident that killed her six years ago on the night of her high school prom. He thinks about Sophia and about how she only got four short years to live before she was gone. As he thinks about his dead family members, of his grandpa lived for forty years while his daughter lived for four. His sister lived for eighteen while his grandma lived twice that long. Stiles was seventeen and he’d almost been killed. Who knows, maybe tomorrow could be his last day on earth, maybe today could.

Then he thinks of Sophia, with her silly giggle and shining sea blue eyes. Her wispy light hair and her soft, smooth baby skin. Her light step and the way she would throw her arms around him when he would hug her. Sophia, with her mother’s intelligence and her father’s looks. Her huge heart that could hold all of the love in the world and more, and her equally as big sweet tooth. They way she’d snuggle up to him and Serena in their bed when she’d had a bad dream. The way she’s say “mommy” and “daddy” in a voice that screamed “hold me, protect me.”

And in that moment, he realizes why Derek didn’t want him to leave.

*

“Where’ve you been?” is the first thing Derek says to Zac when he gets inside.

“Umm I just stayed for a bit longer than everyone else,” he replies.

“Well, everyone’s sitting in the living room,” says Derek.

Zac looks exhausted and he mumbles something about changing his clothes before going upstairs.

Derek follows him upstairs and goes into his own room, where he finds Stiles undressing.

“Could’ve knocked,” says Stiles, slipping on his stupid oversized sweat pants. “Knocking works.”

“But it’s my room,” replies Derek, his eyes travelling up Stiles’ body. He’s pale and skinny, and a thin trail of hair runs from his belly button and disappears into his pants. Derek tries not to stare but it’s too late, Stiles noticed.

“You just checked me out,” he says matter of factly.

“I did not just check you out,” he snaps.

“You totally just did check me out, don’t even deny it,” says Stiles, chuckling.

Derek tries to glare at him but it’s not working, Stiles comes up to him and grabs his face in both hands.

“You can just admit it Derek, it’s not the end of the world. I’m an attractive guy and I know it,” says Stiles, pursing his lips.

Derek scoffs and pushes him away. “We’re ordering pizza,” he says, changing the subject.

Stiles’ eyes light up and his mouth drops open. “But you’re a health freak!” Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles continues with, “Whatever, I’m not complaining.” He plops a quick kiss on his lips before disappearing out of the room.

Derek sighs. That kid confuses him.

By the time the pizza man arrives, the entire pack is sitting in the living room. Scott and Allison occupy the Lazy-Boy, Isaac, Boyd and Erica squish onto the loveseat and Jackson, Lydia, Stiles, Derek and Zac spread themselves out onto the couch. Peter is there too, to everyone’s surprise. He leans against the wall and watches over them, protectively.

They eat pizza and watch some TV in silence before Isaac speaks up.

“Not to be rude or anything, but I’m pretty sure you never gathered us here for an evening of dinner and a movie,” he says. Everyone turns their attention to Derek.  
“Then I guess we’ll get on with it,” he replies, switching off the TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know for season 3 of Teen Wolf there's going to be a new alpha pack. I made this story up before we even learned of that, and I don't exactly know how Jeff Davis is going to make Derek's pack handle an alpha pack, so I'm just making up whatever possibilities Derek might come up with that will allow them to capture the new pack in town. Nothing is going to sound as realistic as Jeff (the genius) Davis is going to come up with so I apologize in advance if it doesn't make any sense. Also, hang in there for a fluffly Sterek scene ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because it's not a full moon doesn't mean you shouldn't watch your back.

Derek begins by summarizing the recent events.

“First things first, there’s a new wolf pack in town. I don’t know who they are or when they got here, but all I know is that there are three of them and they’re trying to drive us out. Or, you know. Kill us, if we refuse.” Derek pauses for effect and a slight chill hangs in the air. Derek feels Stiles shift closer to him and the warmth of his body gives him the surge of energy he needs to continue.

“We’re stronger in numbers, which is why we’re going to stick together from now on. There are a lot of rooms in this house, and they’re pretty big. So get your things from your houses and stay here because on the night of the full moon in two weeks, we’re going to be ready for them.”

All eyes in the room are on him, hesitant, attentive. “But first we need to find out who they are. Scott, you take Allison and Stiles. Isaac, you’re with Boyd and Erica. Jackson and Lydia, you’re together. Peter is going to work with Deaton, and Zac and I are staying here. Your job is to roam the town, go into every store, every neighbourhood. See if you can smell anything different, or witness any unusual action. Anything you find, report back to me. If we can find them in their human form, we can take them down easier. Other than that, we stick together. No one goes out at night alone, or without telling someone else where they’re going to be. Understood?” They all nod.

“Deaton does know what happened, right?” asks Peter. They all turn to face him, suddenly aware of his presence.

Derek nods, “Yes. I told him. Deaton’s smart, he will know what to do.”

“Who do you think it is?” asks Isaac.

“We already know who it’s not,” answers Derek. “Gerard. He’s dead, it can’t be him. Kate’s dead. So it can’t be the Argents—no offence Allison,” he says.

“Wait,” she pipes up. “My dad’s brother is in town. His name is Luke. Scott told me that—” She looks at him and he motions for her to continue. “He told me that you said you smelled an Argent when someone shot an arrow into Stiles. It could’ve been him.”

Derek frowns. “Where did he come from?” he asks.

“Arizona. Said he’d just broken up with his wife,” she replies. “I don’t know whether to believe him or not, I don’t know because…” She trails off, but Derek is lost in thought.

His heart sinks as it makes a connection, and suddenly he has a lead. “I think I might know who it is.”

*

Later that night, Stiles lies by Derek’s side in his bed. He listens to him breathe in and out, like that very first night a couple weeks ago. He doesn’t want to disturb him, but it’s now or never.

“Derek?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you still awake?”

“I’ve got the abilities to heal faster than any human can, but I don’t have the ability to have a conversation with you in my sleep,” he replies sarcastically. What do you want?”

“I need to tell you something, but I don’t want you to get mad,” Stiles answers.

“Why would I get mad?”

“Because I should’ve told you sooner, and it’s like, crucial information here.”

Derek props himself up on both elbows and looks at Stiles. “What are you talking about?”

Stiles takes a deep breath. “A few nights ago you were taking a shower and I was in your room. I was checking out the windows and I saw…I saw…the alpha. The same one that attacked Zac and I. But I never said anything about it because…I didn’t want to worry you.”

Derek is silent for a moment before he says, “Sometimes I really want to punch you in the face.”

“Hey, c’mon dude,” says Stiles. “I’m sorry, okay? Are you mad?”

“No.” Derek pauses. “But I am annoyed.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” says Stiles.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” snaps Derek.

“Oh my God, fine. Okay, whatever.”

Neither of them says anything until Stiles pipes, “It wasn’t really an Argent that night of the attack, right?” says Stiles. He faintly touches his shoulder where the arrow pierced it and is relieved to find out it no longer hurts when he presses on it.

“Might’ve been. Might’ve not been. I smelled it, but who knows.”

“You said you might know who it is,” says Stiles.

“I’m working on a hunch.”

“Well who do you think it is?”

“I’m not telling you,” barks Derek.

“Oh my God, why not?” whines Stiles.

Derek sighs. He can no longer resist the temptation to say no to Stiles, especially at one o’clock in the morning.

“Remember Sarah?”

“That hot blonde girl you stalked one night at the mall with me for like a million hours?” asks Stiles.

Derek ignores him. “She was my sister’s best friend, like I told you. Later I met her at a coffee shop and we had a short conversation. Turns out she just recently divorced her husband, and moved back to Beacon Hills from Arizona.”

“So do you think that maybe Sarah and Luke are—”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

*

On the first day of school, Stiles, Scott and Allison get into his Jeep, followed by Jackson and Lydia in Jackson’s Porsche, and Boyd driving an SUV with Erica and Isaac in it. Zac and Derek stay home, and the emptiness of the house is aching, the silence deafening. Soon Zac will be on his way to work at the same time the rest of the pack returns, which means there will never be a full house until the weekends. But it also means there will be no silence.

He sighs and plops down next to Zac on the couch, who is watching an old rerun of a football game.

“Any news of the pack?” asks Zac, his eyes glued straight ahead.

“Nope,” replies Derek bluntly.

“The full moon’s tomorrow night,” says Zac. He’s been doing everything he can to stay on top of things in the werewolf world, and the effort’s been paying off.

“Yeah, I know. Which reminds me, there’s someone I have to see.”

*  
Derek pulls in an empty parking space and enters the mall. A minute and a half later he stands in front of the same shop that very first night with Stiles, so long ago.

“Can I help who’s next please?” asks the cashier.

Derek takes a step forward and smiles vaguely. A small hint of shock flashes in Sarah’s eyes before it disappears, and she perkily asks him, “Derek, what can I get for you today?”

“Medium double double,” he answers. When he hands her the money he slips her a small piece of paper, then walks away briskly before he can see her reaction to the note.

*  
Later that evening, Derek slips on his jacket and is about to head out when Stiles stops him.

“Where are you going?” he asks eagerly. “Can I come?”

“No.”

“Why not? I can tell you all about my first day of school,” he offers with a smile.

Derek rolls his eyes, “You already did.”

“Well, there are some things I didn’t tell you, like—”

But Derek cuts him off. “Look Stiles, you can tell me all the details about your first day of school when we’re in bed, okay?” he whispers.

Stiles shuts up. Derek leaves the house.

*  
Zacs phone vibrates for the millionth time and everyone on the dinner table groans.

“Zac, we’re trying to do homework here. Either turn that off, or leave,” says Lydia sassily.

“Hey, it’s my house,” he remarks.

“Actually, it’s practically our house,” says Isaac.

The young teens’ parents didn’t mind that the pack was living together, surprisingly, as long as they visited at least once a week. Except for Allison’s dad, who objected at first but settled down when he realized that Scott was going to be with her. Their relationship had gotten much stronger, and it almost felt like everything was finally okay…until the new werewolf pack interrupted.

Zac’s phone vibrates again and Erica sighs. “Okay that’s it.” Before he can object, she grabs his phone and clicks on the messages.  
“Hey! Give that back,” yells Zac, reaching for the phone. But her werewolf powers are quicker, and she tosses it to Boyd, who tosses it to Jackson, who tosses it to Isaac, who tosses it to Scott, who tosses it back to Erica.

“I didn’t realize we were playing a game of ‘monkey in the middle’,” huffs Zac, exasperated. “Can I please have my phone back?”

“Hmm, not yet,” says Erica. She begins to read them out loud. “Amanda- 9:37pm: Okay, so Tuesday at 12:00 good?”

“Erica—”

She twists around, tapping the next message. “Zac- 9:38pm: Yeah sure, sounds great. I’ll give you a ride.”

Zac grabs Erica from behind and wrestles her until his phone is back in his hand. His cheeks flushed, he helps her up and they straighten their clothes.

“Who’s Amanda, Zac?” asks Erica, teasingly.

“A friend,” he retorts, but they don’t even have to listen to the beat of his heart to know that he’s lying.

“Really?” she asks slyly, coming up close to his face.

“C’mon you guys, leave the guy alone,” says Allison, to Zac’s relief.

“Yeah, she’s right. We have a lot of chem review to catch up on,” adds Stiles.

Erica smiles at him before returning to her work.

*

Sarah is already there when Derek arrives, and she watches him approach her with a confident grin on her face.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” he replies.

They start walking down the dimly lit streets together, each of their hands in the pockets, each of their footsteps silent.

“So what did you want to talk about?” asks Sarah.

Derek takes a deep breath before answering. “My sister.”

He’s lying, but she plays along. “Oh. Why?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I haven’t heard about her in such a long time, and you’re the only one who knew her as well as I did. Or maybe even better.”

She considers her word choice carefully before replying. “I loved your sister so much. She was the best person I knew.”

Derek doesn’t answer, and she takes his silence as an invitation to continue. She tells him about their childhood games, their teenage crushes, their biggest secrets. Sarah and Laura were more like twins than anything, and they knew absolutely everything about each other. Especially, of course, the werewolf part.

“I’m going to admit, Derek, I was kind of jealous of her for having those amazing powers. But I was kind of glad I wasn’t her either. It was fascinating, watching her turn into a full-on wolf. It blew my mind every time, no matter how many times I’d seen it before.”

They round a corner with a lot of alleyways. “After your house burned down she slipped away a little, she became more reclusive. And then when I found out she’d…died…I just knew I had to get away. There was no way I was going to stay in a place so depressing, and it’s a mystery how you managed to survive. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”

They come to a stop, and Derek realizes they’re at the end of an alley. He gets a sudden moment of panic because he hated confined spaces, but Sarah’s soothing voice relaxes him.

She takes his hands in hers and looks up at him, which he knows she must hate since she’s older. Laura hated it too. Derek realizes that, apart from Stiles, it’s been so long since someone touched him like that, so tentatively. She smiles briefly and her eyes wrinkle at the corners. She moves closer and closer and before Derek can grasp what’s happening her lips are on his and they’re kissing.

Sarah’s lips are sweet and sticky. They taste like strawberry lip gloss, his favourite flavour of anything. She separates her tender lips and slips her tongue inside his mouth. The experience is much like that with Stiles, except Stiles’ lips taste salty and they’re less soft.

Stiles.

Stiles!

With a jolt, Derek pulls back from her, raging.

“What the hell was that?” he yells.

He expects her to apologize, or stutter, but Sarah remains cool. “You kind of asked for it. I wasn’t intending to do that, but I’m not sorry I did,” she remarks.

Derek’s heart sinks with the sudden realization that he set himself up for this trap.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he yells at himself.

He glares at her and turns around abruptly to walk back to his car when two figures jump down from either side of the roof of the alley.  
Derek takes a step back and bumps into Sarah, who, with one swipe of her claw, flings him aside. He skids across the concrete until he bumps into the wall. Not giving himself any time to rest he jumps to his feet, fully wolfed out, facing the other three werewolves.

“I knew it,” he growls, and lunges at the biggest one.

It’s a mistake because the alpha is almost four feet taller than him, but Derek is already flying through the air aiming straight at his face. With ease, the alpha chucks him aside two inches before he would’ve kicked him in the face, and Derek falls to the ground with a thump. He hears a snap in his shoulder and winces in pain, but gets up once again. He knows he’s not going to win, but he’s not going down without a fight. He jumps on the middle wolf, the unknown one, and knocks him over backwards. They tumble on the ground before he’s ripped off him by the alpha and thrown backwards. Derek attempts to land on his feet but unfortunately for him, he doesn’t possess cat senses. His ankle buckles underneath him and he cries out in pain, unable to get back up. It may be a while before this one heals. The werewolves approach him slowly, menacingly.

“It’s a little too early for this,” says Sarah, her voice strangled like a dying cat. “We were expecting you tomorrow.”

“But you know, we can finish the job now if you’d like,” adds the other wolf.

Derek pants, lying on his side and watches their shoes come closer and closer until one kicks him right in the face. They throw him, punch him and kick him like a hacky sack and Derek can hardly fight back. They laugh at his wimpy punches and continue beating him.

Come on Derek, where are your supernatural strengths?

He only has one choice, and he takes it when he sees it. The three of them surround him, taking turns to beat him up. The alpha and Sarah stand about two meters apart while the other wolf takes slow steps towards him. When he’s about an inch away, Derek uses all the strength left in him to lift himself up and dart between them. He runs out of the alley and doesn’t stop to look back until he’s back in his car and driving home with a bloody…a bloody, well, everything.


End file.
